Twilight
by Zed-Azrael
Summary: slight AU. Dreams always result in an awakening, and twilight always fades. What if Roxas had left Twilight Town with Axel? EPIC FIC. AkuRoku, Riku/Sora, implied Zemyx
1. prologue : blindfold

_twi·light_

_the soft, diffused light from the sky when the sun is below the horizon, either from daybreak to sunrise or, more commonly, from sunset to nightfall._

* * *

**Summary:** Dreams always result in an awakening, and twilight always fades. What if Roxas had left Twilight Town with Axel?  
**Disclaimer:** No.  
**Rant:** Praise me, I'm taking a step on the wild side and am writing something that's not so blatantly AU. This was another idea that kept buzzing around my head. The whole what-if concept is always such a wonderful thing to work with, and this was one that was simply too delicious to ignore. (And, yes, this will actually have a plot. Feel free to pass out now.)  
…Okay. Yeah. I owe an explanation for why I'm only finishing this now (in September). As some of you may know, I've been away in the Maasai Mara of Kenya for the past month. And in our quaint little centre, we had roughly three hours of electricity at night and no internet connection. On top of that, I've been doing manual labour, so, understandably, when I returned to my tent at night, there was nothing I wanted more than to collapse on my bed and never wake up. Yeah. That just about sums it up.  
**Other Notes:** Umm, I kind of defy the laws of canon with the sequence (and content) of dreams Roxas has. Eh heh. Just go with the flow, eh? This story strays from the canon, and the Roxas of my world has slightly different things headed down his path, and therefore he'll end up remembering different things at different times. (Some things will be rather debateable, but I'll deal with any inconsistencies later…probably…)  
Oh, and I've also bent over backwards in my attempt to cram the what I needed of the tutorial-thing into this prologue. _::tears::_ It was a very painful and very tedious task. Please don't kill me if I mess it up a little. (And if I mess it up a lot, do me a favour and don't tell me. Ignorance is bliss. –no, seriously, tell me. I'll need to fix it.)  
I practically raced through the whole thief bit, so it's incredibly raw and choppy. Don't kill me! I'll try fixing it…eventually…

* * *

**Started:** July 17, 2007.  
**Completed:** September 11, 2007.

* * *

**Twilight**

_p__rologue : blindfold_

* * *

**Roxas never understood why Twilight Town had been given its name.** Certainly, its skyline was quite spectacular on the occasions when twilight did appear, but still… The name of the town was wildly misleading. From its name, one might think that the town had been locked in a permanent state between light and dark. Which, of course, was impossible. Twilight, after all, does not last forever. It eventually fades away. 

Every day, Roxas would push his window open and gaze up longingly at the horizon, watching as the glimmering light eventually faded into the sunrise. And every day, Roxas would sigh deeply and allow his mind to idly contemplate the complete absentmindedness of the town.

There had always been something rather bizarre about the town in Roxas' mind. The simple dreamlike quality of life was peculiar enough, but coupled in with the citizens' uncanny nonchalance and disinterest with life outside the puny town—the simple satisfaction they took in knowing absolutely _nothing_—was simply impossible to overlook. Roxas had always found it unusual that nobody in the town seemed to know anything. This was not to say that they were stupid, goodness no. Rather, it appeared to Roxas that they were either blissfully unaware of what lay beyond their borders, or that they were in plain denial.

He'd always found that disturbing. Each time he'd ask a passing citizen—or even one of his friends—if they knew what was outside of the town, his reply would be a plastic smile and the chipper answer of "There's nothing out there, dear. We're all alone in this universe."

Roxas had never believed that for a second. He _knew_ there was something out there. Even so, he had no proof. He himself had no idea of what lay past the twilight-glazed horizon. He only knew that there was _something_ out there.

But no matter who he asked, the answer was always the same: "There's nothing out there, dear. We're all alone in this universe."

He'd probably asked everyone in the whole goddamn town. Every street performer, grocer, artisan, and child. And yet, they all still said the same thing.

Even Seifer, whom Roxas had turned to in his desperation (and later regretted with every fibre of his being), had had virtually the same answer, though in a much more vulgar way.

"Could you be any _less_ of a moron? There's nothing out there, shitface. We're on our own in this fucked up universe."

It was mystifying, and Roxas couldn't find any way to explain the townspeople's lack of knowledge—or curiosity, for that matter. At first, he thought it might have been something in the water. Perhaps some chemical had slipped into the town's water supply and was turning the citizens' brains into oatmeal. Roxas soon found himself crossing that possibility off, though, seeing as he drank the same water supply as the others, and he certainly wasn't ignorant to the possibility of other existences. (At least, not to the extent of the other townspeople, who seemed perfectly content knowing absolutely nothing about the world around them.)

He didn't understand many things, like how the people could be so satisfied while he dwelled in malcontent. He'd asked himself the question of _how?_ The answer he decided upon was quite simple. The citizens of Twilight Town did not bother lingering over questions they could not answer. Evidently they were more concerned with their little insignificant lives than they were with the rest of the outside world. And perhaps that was the beauty of it all. Roxas didn't really know. But, he was certainly willing to try.

Maybe, just _maybe_, he'd be able to forget the past. Maybe he'd be able to forget all his unanswered questions that cried desperately for solutions. Maybe he'd be able to let go all of his scathing opinions about the town's idiocy. Maybe he'd be able to start a new life, and not dwell on the one that he couldn't remember, but knew he had.

_Maybe_, Roxas thought—hoped, _Just maybe, I could try and be happy._

Because one thing Roxas had noticed since he woken up in a town he didn't recognise (but had been told he'd been there all his life), was that he hadn't once been happy.

If he found a way to be happy, he might be able to let go of all the troubling questions that lay in the darkest corners of his soul; the questions that clawed mindlessly at his brain in frustration.

So he tried to be happy. But in order to be happy, he had to let go.

So he did.

And he soon found himself forgetting his frustration with the incompetence of the townsfolk. He allowed himself to slip into a state of ease, not unlike the same, dreamlike quality of life that those around him seemed to possess.

Truthfully, Roxas much preferred this hazy sort of life to the one he'd been previously enduring. One littered with riddles and questions. To him, life felt much more comforting this way—simple and uncomplicated. That's how everything was supposed to be, after all, right? Simple and clean. Simplicity in itself was beautiful, and he was eternally grateful that his hands were clean of blood, that he didn't live in a world torn by war. And, above all, he just wanted to be happy.

And for these reasons, he allowed himself to be carried away, to drift off into the vague world that was Twilight Town.

There was something about this town, he decided, that made it charming. Perhaps it was the very thing that had baffled him from the start—that same, sleepy, uneventful atmosphere that perfumed the glowing sky.

_Yes_, Roxas thought to himself. _I can be happy here._

So, he made friends—they were wonderful people, and always fun to be around. And for a while, Roxas thought he was happy. But then, one day, while they had been gloating up a storm, jeering about how Seifer had been crushed in a recent Struggle match, they all began to laugh. He heard them laugh. And then he heard himself laugh. And then he knew there was something wrong.

Something terribly, terribly wrong.

Because in that moment, he could tell that there was a considerable difference that set him apart from Hayner, Pence, and Olette. It was in their laughter. There was something in Roxas' that sounded…off.

And it was then that Roxas knew he wasn't happy.

And he didn't know why.

Roxas, greatly discouraged by his discovery, tried his hardest to ignore it. Tried to force himself back into the fuzzy bliss that made up Twilight Town. That peaceful sense of tranquility and sanctuary. Only to find it impossible.

Like twilight, his state of delirium could not last forever. He had been jolted rudely awake to a reality that was so _surreal_ that it simply. could. not. be. _real_.

And then the dreams started.

They had been subtle, at first. Perfectly easy to ignore and forget. Just odd flashes here and there. A brief glimpse of a calm ocean, an image of a hidden cave where childlike doodles lined the walls, a snippet of a swaying palm tree dotted with yellow, star-shaped fruit… Little things like that. Roxas hadn't bothered to even consider their significance. Until one day, he woke up from a dream, blood pounding in his ears and sweat clinging to his brow.

This one had been different. That night, there had been a person in his dreams—a boy. The boy had been sitting quietly on a golden beach, facing the ocean, watching the waves roll and crash into the shoreline. Roxas couldn't see the boy's face, only the back of his head of unruly, cinnamon-coloured hair. Then, slowly, the boy turned his head slightly, as if to regard Roxas. Roxas woke up with a start, but not before he saw the flash of sparkling blue eyes and the glimmer of a smile.

Roxas hadn't had the faintest idea of what the dream meant—and he didn't particularly care. He didn't even have the slightest idea of who the strange boy was, this scrawny little boy with the tired smile and the worried eyes.

To Roxas, he was just another nameless face in a crowd.

And the boy continued to be such.

As time went on, Roxas' dreams (they were really more flashes than dreams) became more vivid…more lifelike. It was as if his dreams were brewing an entire story—an entire life!—around that one nameless little boy. And more and more people began to join into the boy's story. Roxas could even name a few of these bizarre and colourful characters off the top of his head.

Roxas knew that these dreams were in no specific order. One particular dream had featured the boy travelling alongside two peculiar characters: an overgrown duck with a serious attitude and an upright dog with a goofy grin. However, another dream that Roxas had, much later on, displayed the first encounter between these strange animals and the nameless boy.

In fact, many of the dreams pertained to this party of three unlikely comrades. They always seemed to be somewhere different each time, Roxas observed. And for each place they went to, they encountered and befriended new people, some more odd in appearance then them. (Roxas had been unable to shake the image of the thin, skeletal man with the hollow eyes for nearly a week.)

Roxas wasn't really aware of where all these dreams were coming from, nor why he was having them in the first place. In any case, he found himself growing more and more curious about the happenings of the Nameless Boy as time went on and the dreams progressed. He wondered what the Nameless Boy was searching for—he had frequently seen the Boy speaking wistfully of his goals—and why the Boy was searching at all. Actually, after awhile, it appeared that all the Boy did in his life was search.

Until, one day, Roxas saw the Boy unsheathe an unusual looking weapon from thin air.

A Keyblade. That's what they all called it. (Once, he'd actually pretended he had one of his own. He had been brandishing a twig in the back alley, when he lost his grip on it and accidentally hit a passing man in a long, black leather coat. He'd apologised, but he wasn't exactly sure that the man had even noticed the twig, let alone him.) What the Boy was doing with it, Roxas had no idea.

And then he dreamt of darkness.

Out of the shadows of his dream world (worlds?), strange creatures as black as death and with bulbous, glowing yellow eyes began to materialise and assemble, all of them whispering nonsensical words beneath their breaths.

_Kingdom Hearts! Kingdom Hearts!_ they creatures had chanted. _Take the hearts, open the door! O, Master! The door, the door! Take the hearts, for we are hungry…ever so hungry… The door! Lead us, o Master! Take us to Kingdom Hearts!_

It made very little sense to Roxas. (It actually made no sense whatsoever, but he was a bit too hard-headed to admit to that.)

Since he highly doubted that this 'Kingdom Hearts' was some sort of all-you-can-eat buffet, he decided that the insatiable hunger of these grotesque, squirming creatures was a tad more macabre.

_Did they really take hearts?_

Roxas wasn't sure, but figured they must have. Because something that the creatures were doing was making the Boy upset, and making him seek out the creatures. And kill them.

Though Roxas was really just an outsider in the widest stretch of the meaning, he did not believe that the Boy was killing on a whim, nor was he killing for the sake of evil. Roxas didn't think the Boy was capable of such a horrible act. He didn't know how to explain it, but he knew, somewhere deep down, that the Boy was not evil, that he didn't even have a shred of wickedness in him.

So Roxas trusted the Boy, and simply took to watching the Boy defeat his never-ending stream of foes.

That was all the Boy ever seemed to do. Fight and stare longingly off into the horizon.

And Roxas would throw open his window and watch the morning twilight slowly fade away. And he would wonder: did that Boy have dreams about Roxas, like how Roxas had dreams of him? Was the Boy, at this very moment, staring out his own window, watching the very same twilight fading into light? Was the Boy wondering who Roxas was?

Thoughts like that unnerved Roxas.

* * *

_I've been having these weird thoughts lately...like is any of this for real, or not?_

* * *

**Hayner, Pence, and Olette were worried about Roxas.** He could tell it from their eyes. 

The fact that they said they were worried was just a minor hint.

They claimed that he was much quieter, now. More sombre. That he always seemed "out of it," as Hayner had put it.

Roxas, who hadn't even noticed these alleged changes in persona simply shrugged and said that he'd just been thinking a lot lately.

To which, Hayner burst into laughter, saying that this was certainly a large change.

Roxas replied by shoving Hayner.

All comedy aside, once his friends had mentioned the change, Roxas began to notice it himself. He decided to blame the sudden abnormality in his behaviour on the sagas of dreams he'd been having.

After all, aside from the dreams, everything else had been the same as before. The sun still rose and set, the trains still ran more or less on schedule, and Seifer was still the insensitive bastard he'd always been.

But, at the same time, things were not the same. And Roxas knew, deep inside of himself, that they never would be the same again.

His dreams had been getting increasingly more intense, always filled with darkness and death and screams—_oh god! the screams! make them __**stop!**_—it had come to a point were it was not uncommon for them to become too much for his defenceless unconscious to handle, shocking him out of his fitful slumber. And after these horrific dreams, Roxas would find himself hurting in all sorts of obscure places. The most agonizing ache he'd had to date was an incredibly excruciating sort of shooting pain that he'd been getting frequently in his chest, just over his heart. To be completely honest, if he hadn't been making his constant trips to his medicine cabinet for painkillers, he probably would have passed out long ago. The pain was so unbearable… It felt almost like someone had brutally stabbed him in the chest and ripped out his still-beating heart, it was that bad.

That same night, the night from which he awoke with that awful throb in his chest, he'd had a most curious dream. It made very little sense, but Roxas was somewhat used to that at this point. And when he woke up—this time screaming, which was definitely a first—he was left with only one vivid recollection from that dream:

_"You are a Nobody. Nobodies are those without hearts. They are merely shadows of the people they once were. Nobodies are incapable of feeling, incapable of love."_

And after a few minutes—once he realised he was awake and that he was probably disturbing his neighbours, that is—Roxas silenced his screaming and blinked, narrowing his eyes and pursing his lips in concentration as he fought to even out his breathing.

_What the hell is wrong with me?_ he wondered, still quite dazed and groggy. He flopped back onto his bed and stared up at his ceiling, an unreadable expression on his face. He spent the next hour trying to put together some sort of an understanding as to what his dream had been about, all to no avail. All he could recall was a terrible feeling not unlike being torn in two—holy _fuck_, that had _hurt_—the warmth…no, the _intensity_ of a blazing inferno, and a cool, disembodied voice droning that haunting bit about 'Nobodies.'

_Well_, Roxas thought, now considerably more calm. _That was…different._

Because there was no other way he could describe it entirely. That killer pain he had in his chest hurt like a bitch, but it wasn't nearly as intriguing or disturbing as the other elements of his dream. (The ones that he remembered, anyway.)

Regarding the inexplicable sense of heat and passion he'd felt…well… Roxas honestly didn't know what to make of that. He had felt like every inch of his body had been completely devoured by thousands of white-hot, licking flames. It hadn't felt bad, per se. Just…different.

Even thinking about it made Roxas sweat a little. But not in the bad way. He didn't feel particularly upset about this aspect of his dream. Quite the contrary, actually. It had felt…nice.

Well, it _had_ felt nice. Until that horribly toneless voice went and ruined it all with its spiel about 'Nobodies,' whatever the hell _they_ were…

Just recalling the voice was enough to freeze over Roxas' former tranquility he'd found in remembering the pleasant fire he'd dreamt of. God, that voice was terrifying. So bitter and unfeeling and so goddamn _dead_… And just what had the voice been speaking of, anyway? Nobodies…hearts… Geez. How positively _morbid_. Was it so difficult for Roxas to have _normal_ dreams? For goodness sake, what he'd give for a night-time emission… (After all, weren't all normal, functional, male teenagers _supposed_ to have things like _that_?—not to say that Roxas wasn't normal. What a silly thing for him to preside over. Of course he was normal. What else would he be if not _normal_?)

And Roxas, though he didn't feel completely at ease, was still very sleepy, and would have gladly opted to sleep for a hundred years, just like that princess in the tale. And so he slept. A peaceful, deep sleep that was, for once, free of the terrible images he'd been frequently seeing. Rather, this one had been filled with that same, satisfying sense of warmth and security. And when Roxas woke up, he felt oddly content; the pain in his chest was thankfully absent and he thought nothing more of the chilling voice or of those 'Nobodies.'

Or, at least, he would have thought nothing more of it if he and his friends hadn't had that unpleasant scuffle with Seifer and his gang later that day.

It had started early that morning when Hayner brought it to Roxas' and the others' attentions that Seifer had been spreading rumours to the whole of Twilight Town—which really wasn't much of a feat, in all honesty. Twilight Town had a pretty small population—that they'd been stealing a number of ——— from the locals. Hayner was so upset about it, and Roxas, who was in an unusually mum mood, decided not to voice his confusion on how Seifer was explaining how they'd managed to steal not just a couple of everyone's ———, but the word ——— itself. In his opinion, Seifer, though admittedly not the brightest star in the sky, was not so daft as to go around telling people that "Blondie and his lamers" had miraculously gained the unexplainable power to prevent all civilians in Twilight Town from saying the word ———. It just didn't seem likely. But, still, Roxas went along with Hayner's little self-inspired quest (it had really been Roxas' idea, but he wasn't about to fight for ownership rights) to prove their innocence and to capture the real thieves. (Hayner, though also not the brightest star in the sky, was at least able to recognise that Seifer hadn't been the one stealing all the ———.)

Interestingly enough, it turned out that the citizens had fallen completely for the claim that Roxas—not "Blondie and his lamers," _just_ Roxas—had single-handedly managed to steal the ———. (They seemed delightfully unaware that they were all unable to say ———. Roxas couldn't help but feel a bit exasperated at this. _Really_, what had he expected, anyway?)

This new knowledge had greatly chagrined Roxas, and made him pursue the ——— thief with even greater fervour than Hayner, a feat that Olette and Pence would never have thought possible. And in the midst of their search for clues to lead them to the thief, they, as luck would have it, ran into Seifer and his gang. Fuu and Rai had been quick to reprimand Roxas, and Hayner had been more than happy to mouth them off in turn with his ever intelligent comeback of "Oh, yeah?"

Seifer had then made his presence known, chuckling about how they didn't need a couple of ——— to prove that "Blondie and his lamers" were inferior. Fuu, in her own little monosyllabic way, had dully called for a "replay," something Seifer was more than willing to give.

"I guess if you get on your knees and beg, maybe I'll let it slide," he drawled, shifting into a low fighting stance.

Hayner, who'd been fully prepared—and eager—to go and bash Seifer's skull in, got the shock of his life when Roxas immediately stepped forward and made to kneel down. Seifer got only a moment to laugh at Roxas' apparent surrender, because Roxas then charged at him, grabbing one of the weapons that had been lying haphazardly on the dusty ground of the Sandlot, and flying into attack.

During the next several minutes, Roxas engaged Seifer in a more frenzied battle than anything he'd ever attempted outside of the Struggle Tournament. Cusses were thrown, hits were exchanged, and, at last, Seifer slumped to the ground, utterly defeated and shielded behind both Rai and Fuu, who were sputtering forth excuses for Seifer's inadequacy. Pence must have found the whole scenario wildly amusing, because he whipped out an old Polaroid camera from god knows where and quickly took a shot, only to be ambushed by a most peculiar creature: the thief.

Roxas, energy and strength pounding in his veins, went sprinting after the strange creature, determined to capture it. He was soon led through the woods and to the gateway of the old mansion. It was there that he got his first good look at the being. It wasn't human, but it definitely was unlike any animal Roxas had ever seen in his lifetime. Its pale flesh was taut and the creature's lithe body twirled and danced about Roxas, never letting him hit it once.

It was just when Roxas was positive he'd never be able to land a blow that the creature suddenly jumped away from him; its oddly zippered mouth stretched into a ghastly leer as its body—moving as if its own entity—danced and writhed as it hovered over that one spot, its sinewy flesh rippling with lean muscles.

Roxas had just been planning to make another attack on the creature, but froze, getting a tremendous shock that nearly made him piss his pants.

_We have come for you, my liege_, a croaky voice whispered in his ear.

Roxas nearly dropped his weapon, he'd been so startled. _Who just said that?_ Roxas snapped his blue gaze from left to right, scanning his surroundings with alarm. _There's no one here_, he realised with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Slowly, his eyes returned to the dancing white creature. _It's just me here…me and this…thing_. Then, his eyes widened as a most chilling thought struck him: _Was it… Did that thing say that?!_

He wasn't given any time to ponder this, however, for the monster's (there really was no other way to describe that _thing_) zippered mouth suddenly flew wide open and a horrible stench that reeked of decay overpowered Roxas, and he stumbled back, completely unprepared for when the monster launched itself at him, mouth agape and poised for an attack.

It was all he could do to keep himself from getting beaten till he was but a centimetre from death. And, as a person with some training in combat, Roxas also knew fat well that if he stopped dodging and evading and generally _fleeing_ from this monster, it would overpower him with no difficulties whatsoever. The difference in their skills wasn't even funny. _Yes_, he thought bitterly, resignation heavy in his chest. _I am going to die._

Then, something unexpected happened. A strangely familiar rush of heat swept through his body, flowing from its origin deep in his chest and surging to his fingertips. When he opened his eyes, he was instantly blinded by a flash of golden light. And without thinking, he raised his weapon with inhuman speed and, to his surprise, swatted the monster away like an insect and sent it flying into a nearby shrubbery.

Roxas blinked owlishly, not quite comprehending what had just happened. His gaze flickered down to observe his weapon, and it took every ounce of him to keep from crying out in confusion; for in his hands was a weapon that was most certainly _not_ the clumsy Struggle club he'd snatched off the ground in his haste. This new weapon was sleek and graceful and practically _humming_ with power. He instantly recognised it as being the 'Keyblade' from his dreams, but as for what it was doing _here_, feeling just oh so _right_ in his hands, well, Roxas decided he'd debate that later, after that grotesque thief had been taken care of.

The Keyblade moved with Roxas like it was a part of his very being; the movements in his attack on the monster were more precise, more fluid, and a hell of a lot more effective. After unleashing a combination of rapid jabs and slashes on the monster, another curious thing happened: the monster seemingly exploded. Not with a loud _crack!_ or a _bang!_ or even a mere _pop_. Rather, a cloud of dirty grey smoke curled away and evaporated into nothing, and a thick stack of photographs fluttered to the ground, leaving no lasting trace that the picture thief had ever existed. And, similarly to the manner in which it had appeared, the Keyblade vanished into thin air with another golden flash, leaving Roxas standing there feeling quite alone and oddly cold.

Roxas returned to Hayner, Pence, and Olette, missing photos in hand. After leafing through a couple of pictures (and after finding that they could once again say the word 'photo'), Pence noticed something interesting.

"So, like, anybody else notice that all the stolen pictures are of Roxas?"

"Ohh," Olette said, understanding shining in her eyes. "So that's why everyone thought it was us."

Hayner looked abashed. "You mean Seifer didn't go around accusing us after all?" he sputtered, turning red in the face.

Roxas, meanwhile, had been ignoring everything that had been said after Pence's observation. "Are they really all of me?"

"Yep," Pence said, passing the stack of photos to him. "See?"

Roxas hadn't quite believed Pence at first, but after craning his head in for a better view, he discovered that Pence was actually correct. It was a most unsettling feeling, and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickle with anxiety when Pence voiced yet another upsetting thought.

"Wouldn't it be weird if the thief wanted to steal the _real_ Roxas or something?"

Hayner and Olette had laughed at this, because, as Hayner had said, why would anybody want to steal him? Such an idea made his stomach lurch and churn with an unknown feeling. Fear? Maybe. Curiosity? Definitely.

_What kind of person would go to such a length?_ he wondered, almost dreading the answer. _Is someone really after me?_

Needless to say, when he and his friends split up and set off to return the pictures to their rightful owners, Roxas kept a wary eye about him and walked with caution. After giving a few photos back to the kindly old woman who worked at the Candy Shop and to the man who owned the Armour Shop, he was left with only one more delivery of photos: Seifer's.

Roxas hadn't been expecting a particularly friendly welcome when he approached Seifer in the Sandlot later that day, but he never would have predicted Seifer thanking him by roughly shoving him backwards into the dirt.

"What the hell was that for?!" Roxas shouted, thoroughly put out. Seifer said nothing and just continued glaring down at him, which only served to further fuel his rage. "You're such a bastard," Roxas snarled, leaping to his feet. "You're rude and cruel and just so goddamn infuriating! You don't care about anyone but yourself, do you?!"

Seifer's lips pulled back in a cruel sneer, those cold blue eyes glistening with malice. "You're right about one thing, I sure as hell don't care about you," he breathed. "You're a _nobody_, Roxas," he whispered, voice hard and merciless.

Roxas hadn't been quite certain how to react to that. His initial thought, though he never showed it, had been one of panic. _How did he know?!_ But then, after his split-second of confusion and horror, he realised that Seifer had just been making one of his typical insults and instantly relaxed. Really, what had he gotten into him?

Seifer spat on the ground, earning himself a groan of disgust from a passing civilian. "No one cares about you, Roxas," he hissed. "And no one ever will."

Roxas had brushed off the insults with out a problem, called Seifer an asshole, and continued on his way, never thinking twice about what Seifer had said.

But after Roxas got home that day, after he locked the door securely behind him, he walked into his bathroom and gazed blankly at his reflection in the looking glass. And then, for no particular reason, he began to cry.

* * *

_A Nobody doesn't have a right to know.  
__Nor does it even have the right to __**be**._

* * *

**There had been something unusually melancholy in the air** the next day when Hayner suggested they go to the beach. Maybe it was just the overall tone to the conversation… Or maybe it had just been Roxas who thought the whole discussion had been rather miserable. How Hayner could go from "I doubt we can be together forever" to "let's get on the train and go!" was simply unfathomable and went completely over his head. It just was just a tad too weird for him. 

Then the day just had to go and take an unpleasant turn. After spending the better portion of the day slaving over odd jobs to make up for their financial dilemma, Roxas had to go and _lose_ all of their earnings. It was really quite sad. The worst part of it, Roxas decided, was the fact that he wasn't even 100 sure _how_ he lost their munny in the first place. They'd been standing right in the Station Plaza when Olette had handed him the bag of munny, and from there they'd just walked right into station. Well, most of them had. Roxas didn't quite get that far. After taking a few leisurely steps towards the station, Roxas promptly tripped and landed on his face, narrowly missing getting conked in the head with a twig that had been chucked in his general direction.

A figure dressed in a long black coat roughly helped Roxas up—_where did he come from?_—and pulled him close enough to hear his low whisper:

"Can you feel Sora?"

_Sora? Who the heck is Sora?_

From the bemused expression adorning Roxas' face, the figure must have decided not, because he quickly swept away, leaving Roxas blinking stupidly and wonderingly what had just happened.

Hayner's shout for the munny knocked him from his daze, and he quickly reached into his pockets for the munny pouch, only to find it missing.

Well. Wasn't this perfect…

Roxas had been convinced that he'd been had by that guy in the coat, figured he must have been some sort of pickpocket. He tried voicing this hypothesis to his friends, but they just gave him sceptical looks and rather patiently told him that there hadn't been anyone there at all.

_What? There wasn't anyone…there?_

Roxas leaned heavily on his windowsill later that night, watching as the twilight faded away into night. He was still baffled by what had happened earlier that day. He furrowed his brow in concentration. There had been someone there, he was sure of it. How Hayner and the others had failed to see him, he had no idea. He closed his eyes and released a deep sigh, wearily rubbing his forehead.

_Why can't things just make sense again?_ he wondered irritably.

_**Because they never made sense to **__begin__** with**_, a snide voice in the back of his head replied nastily. _**Weren't you always brooding over how there was something out there that the others didn't get? Well, congratulations. It's apparently true. They didn't see that guy, did they?**_

Roxas opened his eyes and frowned. That was true. They hadn't seen him at all. _But how can I be sure that __**I'm**__ not the one that's hallucinating?_ he challenged himself. It was, after all, a valid point.

But, to his distaste, the voice just cackled darkly. _**You can't.**_

Che. Useless bastard. Roxas openly scowled at nothing and closed his window, locking it securely once the twilight finally faded away and the black velvet blanket of night crept across the sky and cloaked the town in darkness. After he'd settled into his bed and made himself comfortable, Roxas rolled over on his side to continue gazing out at the skyline.

Twilight Town had never been the best for gazing at the stars. With all the city lights, it was much too bright. But, for whatever reason, tonight, one of the stars was shining a lot more brightly than all the others. Roxas watched it silently for a minute, idly wondering why the other stars couldn't be more like that one. Then, in the briefest of flashes, all light from the star was abruptly extinguished, leaving the sky painfully dark. Roxas' eyes widened and he sat up straight in bed, mouth agape.

He had just seen that, didn't he? The star just…just…_vanished!_ Vanished into thin air! Right before his eyes!

He pressed his nose against the glass, squinting and straining his eyes in an attempt to once again catch the glimmer of the star. But it was no use. The star had disappeared without a trace. Roxas slowly slumped backwards, not quite sure what to make of it. Stars didn't normally vanish on their own, did they? He certainly didn't recall learning anything like _that_ in science class.

Roxas nibbled nervously on his lower lip. For some reason, watching the star practically evaporate into thin air had filled him with a queer sense of dread…like something sinister was lurking in the near future. "What happened to the star?"

"It faded. Freaky, isn't it?"

Roxas jumped at the sound of the voice and spun around, eyes bulging out of his head when he saw the figure cloaked in darkness looming just over his shoulder. "What the _hell_ are you doing in my room?!" he squawked, raising a pillow in what he hoped was an intimidating way. (He figured he could always smother the hooded stranger to death if things got ugly.)

But the intruder just chuckled. "You're just like him," he remarked in a fond way, reaching out a hand, as if to caress Roxas' face. "Your eyes are the same…and yet, so very different." Roxas could practically hear the _smirk_ in the man's voice. "I can see why he was so adamant about restoring him or whatever… Still," he pinched Roxas' cheek with a light laugh, "I think you're _way_ better than that brat."

Roxas jerked back from the man, feeling oddly sick. "Who…who are you?" he demanded, voice quaking slightly.

The man dropped his hand, seemingly disturbed by this. "What are you talking about?" he asked sharply, voice lowering. "What are you trying to say…? You seriously don't know who I am?"

"I think I'd remember a person like you!" Roxas snapped, tightening his grip on the pillow.

The man was silent, apparently lost for words. When he spoke, his voice was cutting and just a bit ominous. "And you're not lying…right?"

Roxas' blue eyes grew wider and he shook his head frantically. _What __**is**__ this?!_ he wondered hysterically. _This guy's insane! He 'knows' me? How the hell does he 'know' me?!_

The man, meanwhile, had taken two steps backward and started pacing, muttering darkly beneath his breath. "What the _fuck_ is going on…? Riku—that bastard—told me he'd be fine… Shit… I swear, if something went wrong…" His boots clicked noisily against the floorboards, and each step was calculated and in a precise rhythm. The sound of the constant clacking was drilling holes in Roxas' skull.

Roxas anxiously licked his lips, his eyes darting to the door as he tried to think of some way to escape. The man must have sensed his intent, because he stopped his pacing directly in front of the door, and his posture gave away his aggravation.

"Don't even think about trying to run away."

Roxas swallowed thickly before fixing the hooded figure with the most defiant glare he could muster. "Don't be stupid," he said loudly, dropping the pillow and crossing his arms stubbornly. "I'm not going anywhere."

He must have said something correctly, because the man visibly relaxed. "Well," he said wearily, "at least you still act the same, Roxas."

Roxas wasn't quite sure how to approach that. The man didn't seem to have any ill-intent; otherwise he would have done something by now. Maybe the best thing to do was simply to listen to what this man—_Psycho. He's a definite psycho_—had to say.

Roxas cleared his throat timidly. "You…erm… You said that we know each other?"

The man seemed even more crestfallen at these words. "Of _course_," he said fervently. "We're _best friends_."

Something in his voice tugged slightly at Roxas' conscience, but he quickly gathered his composure. "How do I know that's true?" he challenged, determinedly ignoring the man's flinch. "You won't even show me your face."

The man sighed and flipped his hood down in a fluid action, revealing a head of long, spiky hair that was so distinct that Roxas' could tell that it was an obtrusive shade of red, even in the dim light. The man—he was really not that much older than Roxas, actually—narrowed his flashing emerald eyes as he watched Roxas take in his appearance. "Got that memorised?"

Roxas nodded mutely, letting his eyes trace the man's face and linger for a brief moment over the strange diamond-shaped tattoos that fell just beneath his eyes. Finally, he raised his gaze to meet the fierce one of the man. "Who are you?" Roxas asked again, voice soft.

_There's something…not right here…_

The man pinched the bridge of his nose with an anguished sigh. "I'm Axel," he said gloomily. "And you're Roxas."

Roxas' felt a faint pang in his chest and slowly nodded. "Axel…"

_What __**is**__ this…?_

Axel nodded, looking quite unhappy. "Yes," he said. "We're best friends."

Something in the way he'd said that sounded slightly…off. But Roxas wasn't about to go prying.

_Maybe…maybe he's telling the truth?_

Axel took a few quick strides to Roxas' bed and kneeled down so he was at eyelevel with the blond, emerald meeting sapphire. "Do you…" he carefully removed his gloves and took one of Roxas' hands in his own and gave him a desperate, imploring look. "Do you remember _anything_?"

Roxas opened his mouth to speak, but found himself unable to when he felt the strangest thing: that same fire, that indescribably pleasant warmth, _creeping_ up his spine from where Axel's bare hands had touched his skin. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, eyes still wide and terrified and absolutely _glued_ to Axel.

Axel's thin eyebrows knitted together. He leaned in slightly. "Do you remember, Roxas?" he asked quietly, pleading.

Roxas closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. "I'm not sure," he said at last, slowly opening his eyes and trying to ignore the barely concealed grief shining in the redhead's eyes. "I…" he swallowed again. "I remember…fire?" He sweated a little at Axel's confused expression. "I don't know how to explain it…" he said, flustered. "It's just a feeling. It's…familiar." He ducked his head.

Axel's grip on his hand tightened, and the fire blazed more strongly now. "Fire?"

"…yes."

Axel released his hand and let out a heavy sigh of—was that _relief_? "Good."

_What?_

Roxas narrowed his eyes, still not looking at anything. "What's so good about fire?"

To his surprise, Axel laughed softly. "It's very good," he said. Roxas turned back to scowl at Axel and complain about his vagueness, but stopped dead when he saw the content grin spread across his face. Roxas felt colour rushing to his face.

"What's so good about fire?" he asked again, a little more forcefully, fuming. Axel laughed again and mussed his hair.

"It means that you haven't forgotten everything. _Some_ part of you still remembers," Axel said confidently. "And, who knows? Maybe your other memories will come back to you."

Roxas frowned. "My memories?"

"Yep. Seems like the chain's not as complete as Riku thought it was…speaking of him, where is he…? That bastard said he'd be here by now…" Axel pursed his lips.

"Excuse me, but 'that bastard' can't help it if he's running a little late," a voice snapped from the other side of the room as another hooded figure materialised, arms folded across his chest.

Roxas blinked in confusion when he saw the new man. His voice was strangely familiar. Then it hit him. "You're the guy who robbed me!" he exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the man.

Axel smirked widely at the hooded man. "Riku, you _robbed_ him? I'm surprised… I thought you were supposed to be a good guy…"

Riku growled from within the depths of his hood. "You know as well as I do that I didn't rob him."

"Suuure…"

"Shut up. DiZ couldn't let him go to the beach. Too risky or something…" Riku made a flippant gesture with his hand. "Didn't want him escaping, I guess…"

Axel cackled and seated himself on the bed next to Roxas', throwing a lanky arm around the smaller boy. "Oh, we certainly wouldn't want _that_…" he drawled. "Poor Riku would go into conniptions if little Roxas here was to go away before DiZ and Naminé were finished with So—"

"Axel, shut up. Don't make me regret this."

Roxas fidgeted. What were they talking about? Regret what?

Axel obediently silenced himself and shrugged nonchalantly. "All I'm saying, Riku, is that I don't see why you guys need Roxas in the first place for this to work."

"I really don't understand it, either. It's way over my head. All I've been able to get is that it's easier for Naminé to mend the memories together if the two of them are in close proximity," Riku said, troubled.

"But _why_ did this need to be done at all? He seemed perfectly fine the last time I saw him…" Axel said, looking up idly.

"The last time you saw him, he was forgetting things by the minute," Riku said snidely.

Axel waved him off. "Minor inconvenience," he said lightly. He glanced down momentarily at Roxas before narrowing his eyes and frowning at Riku. "Speaking of memories," he said, voice icing over. "Why doesn't Roxas remember anything?"

Roxas couldn't help but feel a little indignant. "Hey," he said shrilly. "I'm right here! And I do remember stuff, thank you very much."

"Oh, really?" Axel looked caught between amusement and annoyance. "Tell me, then. What do you remember?—and if you say 'fire,' I can guarantee you that this bastard" he motioned toward an agitated Riku "won't take you seriously."

Roxas glared. "I remember plenty. I remember Hayner and Pence and Olette and—"

"See? This is what I'm talking about," Axel interrupted, glowering at Riku. "He doesn't remember anything _worth_ remembering. All he remembers is that crud your crackpot boss stuck in his head…"

Riku hummed in thought. "That could be problematic," he agreed vaguely. "Maybe it's just an effect of being _here_…"

"Here?" Roxas cut in. "What 'here'?" His eyes lit up. Wasn't this what he'd been contemplating for the longest time? Was this proof that there actually was something wrong with Twilight Town?

Axel looked a bit unsure of how to respond. Instead, he turned back to Riku. "You should talk to Naminé about this," he said flatly.

Riku nodded sombrely. "You have my word."

"Wait!" Roxas said loudly. "What are you guys talking about?! There's nothing wrong with _me_, it's everyone else here that's messed up."

Riku shifted his weight slightly. "Roxas," he said at last, addressing the blond for the first time. (For whatever reason, Roxas felt that Riku was making an effort not to look him in the face—not that he was completely sure…it was kind of hard to tell with the man's face eclipsed in shadow.) "Tell me," Riku was silent for a moment, as if mulling something over. "What do you know about Kingdom Hearts?"

Roxas felt his stomach turn over. _Kingdom Hearts? Like in my dream?_ Roxas lowered his gaze to his hands. They were clammy and trembling.

"Roxas?" Riku's voice was gentle, soothing. "Tell me what you know about Kingdom Hearts."

Roxas looked up at the hooded man and slowly nodded. "'Kingdom Hearts! Kingdom Hearts!'" he said softly, reciting from memory. "'Take the hearts, open the door! O, Master! The door, the door! Take the hearts, for we are hungry…ever so hungry…'" Roxas choked slightly. For some reason, remembering the squirming creatures filled him with dread. "'The door! Lead us, o Master! Take us to Kingdom Hearts!'" he licked his lips. "That's all I know," he said at last.

Axel's grip on his shoulder tightened. "Fucking Heartless," he muttered.

Riku's hand twitched slightly. "That's all you know?" he asked, voice grim.

Roxas nodded hastily, feeling sick. "_Yes_," he hissed. He furrowed his brow. "What is Kingdom Hearts?" he asked Riku.

Riku's answer was not one he wanted to hear. "I was hoping _you_ could tell me."

Axel looked perturbed by this. "Riku, why would you ask this of him? He doesn't remember any of it."

Roxas moved his gaze over to the redhead. _Remember any of what?_

"No," Riku said resolutely. "He remembers. It's just buried somewhere, I think. There's no way he could have come up with that from thin air… Even _I_ remember what they used to say…" he shivered. "No, Axel. He'll remember eventually. Things like this can't remain buried for long. They always come back."

Axel seemed a little more reassured. "That's what I thought." He smiled at Roxas, but blinked and raised an eyebrow quizzically at the blond. "But, wait, where _did_ you get that from? There aren't any Heartless here…"

Riku was mulling over this as well. Finally, he nodded. "I think I know," he said with a snap of his fingers. "Roxas…"

"Yes?"

Riku took a step closer to him. "Have you been having vivid dreams lately?"

* * *

_Are you still dreaming?_

* * *

_­­­_**Roxas rolled off his bed and landed on the floor with a painful crash.** His blue eyes flew open as he woke up, completely tangled in his blankets. 

_Wha…What?! What the hell?!_

He jumped to his feet and looked wildly around his room, mouth opening and closing in confusion. "…Riku? Axel?" he called out, searching in his closets and in all the rooms. Finding no one, he flew out of his flat and knocked on his neighbour's door, still dressed in his pyjamas.

The neighbour's daughter, Panello opened the door. Her pale blue eyes were still clouded with sleep. "Roxas?" she yawned, stretching her arms above her head. "What brings you here at this time? It's not even 9 o'clock."

"Sorry, Panello," Roxas said, speaking a mile a minute. "I was just wondering, was there anyone in my room last night?"

Panello laughed. "I think you'd remember if someone was there with you, don't you think?" she teased with a wink.

"_NO_," Roxas groaned, aggravated. "I meant, was I talking to two people in my room last night, just after sunset?"

Now Panello looked concerned. "Roxas," she said seriously. "I didn't hear anything from your room," she said. "Neither did my mom, or she would have said. You know how we're light sleepers, and how she always gets so touchy about her sleep, and—"

"Panello," Roxas sniped. "Are you _positive_?"

Panello pursed her lips. "Of course, I'm sure."

_Oh God, she can't be serious…_

Roxas nodded slowly and bade her goodbye, slowly receding back into his bedroom. Once inside, he leaned his back heavily against the door, looking over thoughtfully at the corner in which Riku had stood, and over by the bed, where Axel had been. They'd been there, right?

_No…_ the logical part of Roxas' head muttered sullenly. _No. That was a dream, too…_ He idly glanced down at the hand Axel had clasped in his own. His eyes widened. There, on his hand, was the faintest impression of a burn mark in the vague shape of fingers.

Roxas quickly ripped his eyes away from his hand and stared mechanically out his window at the fading twilight. _I'm dreaming…_ he thought madly. _I'm definitely dreaming…_ He chanced one short glimpse at his hand. The burn was most certainly there.

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the door. _I'm dreaming…_ he thought again. _But which parts…were the dream?_

* * *

_"The mystery of tragedy is that is presents two conflicting ideas: the central character is free to choose, and yet he or she seems fated to be destroyed."_

_(Celebrating Humanity)_

* * *

**The Afterword:** Weeeell? Whatcha think? D: I need comments. This is a different angle, and it's a different style than what I've become accustomed to writing, soooo I'm kind of curious to see what kind of an effect this'll have on people. _::nods::_ Please tell me what you liked and all that!

Oh, and there's a buttload of quotes here from the Kingdom Hearts games...but, you guys can probably tell which ones were used. _::nods sagely::_ You'll be seeing a lot of quotes...probably. At least for the beginning. I'll probably run out of applicable ones once the first three or four chapters are up, I think.

And I promise it'll lighten up. Just for future reference. (_For anyone I haven't already scared away, that is…_)


	2. xiii : a fragmented tale

**Summary:** Dreams always result in an awakening, and twilight always fades. What if Roxas had left Twilight Town with Axel?  
**Disclaimer:** D: I think we'd all know if someone from owned Kingdom Hearts. Well…if they were a yaoi fan, we'd know, anyway.  
**Rant**** while this was a WIP:** September Gaaa. I struggled so much with the beginning of this one. T0T It all made me very sad, and I'd been dwelling on a Naruto-induced high for a few weeks into the writing process.  
October 21-- Hokay. It's been nearly a month since I've began, and I've not even finished my third page in word… 9.9 This is all quite distressing… I've been so distracted by South Park, it's not even funny… Ò.Ó I'll try my best to get this out by Halloween. Give myself a week on this…try and crank out the rest of this chapter… T-T What a lost cause…_:sobs:_ If it's not out by then, you all have my permission to beat me with a n00b stick.  
October 24-- HAHAHA:D The hell is this, bitches?! I finally got the chapter to a point that I like!! XD After a goddamn month of procrastination, I finally finished (it's more like I started _and_ finished :P ) the chapter in three days. How's that, eh? Three. Fucking. Days. XDD I'm very proud of myself. Haha, and this chapter isn't even all that good, for all of my boasting… XD  
It's more dialogue than the prologue, but I suppose that's because the prologue was really just a lot of background and fluff… D: This one is all plot development. (Or, so I hope…)

* * *

**Started:** September 22, 2007.**  
Completed:** October 24, 2007.

* * *

**Twilight**

_xiii__ : a fragmented tale_

* * *

**It was not so much that Roxas liked knowing things,** so much as it was that he didn't like _not_ knowing things. And, quite frankly, seeing as recent events had left him exceptionally bewildered, he wasn't feeling too hot.

Actually, he was hardly feeling at all…

Maybe that was the real problem, not all this insanity regarding his dreams and the illusive visitors he may have had the night before.

Geez… What _did_ happen that night…? Roxas had such a migraine; he could hardly come up with any coherent thoughts. And, to make matters worse, that horrible pain in his chest had returned with a vengeance.

_Perfect. Just fucking perfect._ Roxas popped the painkillers in his mouth, wincing momentarily at the bitter aftertaste. Feeling incredibly groggy, he staggered to his bed and collapsed, groaning when he realised that he had forgotten to draw the drapes. Good lord, the light had never been so _aggravating_ before…

He reluctantly rose to a sitting position and pulled the curtains shut, the light filtering in through the gauzy lavender cloth and casting dim shadows across the floor. Roxas slumped back against his pillows, pressing his palms into his closed eyes. After ten minutes, he sighed wearily as he removed his hands to look up at the ceiling.

Well, this wasn't _boring_…

Roxas rolled over onto his stomach, face in his pillow. Maybe, if he stayed in that position long enough, he'd pass out from lack of oxygen… (He figured he might as well try. It seemed that being unconscious couldn't possibly be any _less_ interesting than this.)

_**RRRRING!!**_

Roxas nearly fell out of bed (again) in his scramble to silence the offending phone. He hastily picked up the receiver. "H-hello?" he mumbled, voice still clouded with sleep.

"Roxas? You okay? You sound like you're dying over there." Che, typical Hayner.

"No, Hayner," Roxas said patiently, pinching his nose in a feeble attempt to ward off the next wave of incoming headaches. "I'm not feeling too good."

"Noooo,_really_?" Hayner drawled in an overly blasé voice. "Seriously, though. What the heck? You were fine yesterday. Late night?"

Roxas dropped his face back into his pillow. "You could say that," he replied, voice muffled.

"What?"

"I said, 'you could say that'," Roxas clarified, lifting his face off the pillow.

"Oh. So, what were you doing last night?" There was something oddly perverse in Hayner's voice. Roxas felt his face heat up in something akin to mortification.

"Wh-what?! The hell are you talking about?! _Ew_!"

Hayner laughed. "Just a joke, Roxas, sheesh. You sound like my sister…" Hayner's voice trailed away, and Roxas could imagine him rolling his eyes. "But, seriously, what's up?"

Roxas sighed and rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm not sure," he said truthfully, flinging an arm over his eyes. "It's just…" He pursed his lips contemplatively. "Hayner, have you ever had that feeling…" Roxas paused. _No_, he thought slowly, head throbbing. _It's not really a feeling…it's more like…a __**lack**__ of it._

"Yo! Roxas!" Hayner's voice snapped him back to reality. "What feeling, man?"

Roxas cleared his throat hastily. "Erm, no, that wasn't what I meant…" He furrowed his brow. "It's just, haven't you ever just had that weird sense of hollowness…deep inside your chest? Inside your heart?" He clenched at the fabric of his t-shirt, his breath catching and freezing in his lungs. "That horrible sense of emptiness…like there's nothing happy in the world…?" He swallowed thickly. "Have you?"

For a few moments Hayner was silent. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, guarded. "Roxas, are you feeling all right?"

"I already told you I wasn't feeling well—"

"_No_, Roxas. I meant are you feeling all right in the _attic_?" Hayner's tone was edgy. "'Cause, seriously, you're starting to weird me out…"

Roxas pursed his lips. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm just having an off-day, I guess."

"An 'off-day'?" Hayner sounded bemused. "Dude, it's only 10 A.M.! How could your day have already gone sour?"

Roxas felt like someone was taking a sledgehammer to his skull. He was so_ not_ in the mood for this inane dribble. "Listen," he said testily, "Hayner, I'm really not feeling well. Can I maybe call you back later?"

"Oh, sure," Hayner replied easily. "It's no problem at all, actually. I was just wondering if you wanted to enter the upcoming Struggle tournament with me. Y'know, the one that's in three days?"

"And_ why_ are you calling me up this early to ask?"

Hayner laughed sheepishly. "Sorry. It's just that I wasn't going to get a chance to talk to you guys later in the day. See, my uncle wanted me to help him out at the garage today. Said he needs some junk dragged in from the Tram Commons, I think. Anyway, enough about that. So? You with me?"

Roxas sighed. "Yeah," he said at last. "I'll compete in the tournament with you."

Hayner whooped painfully in his ear. "Sick, man!" he exclaimed in glee. "We're _so_ taking that trophy from Seifer this year!"

"I hope so…" Roxas scratched distractedly at an itch on his arm.

"'I hopes so'? 'I _hope_ so'?! What kind of an attitude is that?!" Hayner screeched. "How the hell do you expect us to—oh!" He quickly lowered his volume when he heard Roxas groan slightly in pained aggravation. "Sorry, Roxas. I completely forgot. Eh heh."

Roxas forced dry laugh. "It's nothing,' he said wearily. "Can I please go back to sleep, though?"

Hayner chuckled lightly. "Geez, Roxas," he mused fondly. "One of these days, you're going to fall into a deep sleep and never wake up!"

* * *

_It all began with__ birth by sleep._

* * *

—**a weathered piece of paper lay in his hand,** a shaky hand having scrawled _'How fragile our hearts are!'_ in gracefully looped penmanship. _"My treatment produced no signs of—"_

—what his strange dream had meant. He rubbed at his clouded blue eyes furiously. He looked up at the redheaded girl in confusion, an indignant pout forming on his lips. _"It wasn't a dream! Or was it? I don't know."_ He furrowed his brow pensively. _"What was that place? So biza—"_

_"_—_are any other worlds out there, why did we end up on this one?"_ a silver haired boy mused, folding and unfolding his arms across his chest. He let out a heavy sigh and—

—he gave the Boy an endearing look, dark eyes full of meaning. _"Friends here"_ were the only discernable words amidst a jumble of peculiar grunts and sounds—

—of the waves crashing into the shoreline fell deaf upon the three figures gazing into the sunset. The figure in the centre, the Boy, turned around and smiled brightly, sparkling blue eyes calling out the unspoken message: _"Remember those important to you—"_

_"—are a Nobody. You do not have a heart. You have no emotions. You cannot—"_

_"—take the Superior's words so seriously, y'know."_ A pair of vibrant green eyes glittered with mirth. _"If we can't love, then that means that we can't have people who are most important to us."_ There was something strangely pained in those eyes. _"I don't think that humans—well, whatever we are—can live like that."_ He offered a shy, half-smile._"We all need someone worth protecting and risking our lives for, don't we, Roxa—?"  
_

* * *

"_I'm not gonna give up now. I came here to find someone very important to me."_

* * *

**Roxas narrowed his eyes at the ****figure of the ghostly girl** sitting in front of him across the table, her elegant hands folded neatly in his lap as she gazed at him with an unreadable expression, clear periwinkle eyes placid and curious. Her pink lips quirked up into the faintest smile. "Hello, Roxas," she greeted; her voice possessed a strange dream-like quality to it, making her sound like she was far away. "How are you today?"

Roxas' lips pulled into a deep frown. "I'm not sure," he said truthfully, "not yet, anyways." He raised an eyebrow at the girl quizzically. "Who are you?"

The girl put a long finger to her lips, eyes lifting upward thoughtfully. "I think," she said slowly, "the question is more along the lines of 'who are you not'."

Roxas' frown deepened. _What?_

The girl lowered her hand and smiled softly, her eyes crinkling shut. "You may call me Naminé," she said at last. She opened her eyes and pushed some of her long, pale blonde hair out of her eyes. "And who are you?"

Roxas couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "You know who I am," he replied, a little bemused. "You called me 'Roxas' earlier. You know my name."

Naminé smiled winningly. "Yes, I know who you are," she agreed cheerfully. "But do you know who _you_ are?"

_The hell is she talking about? God, this is one screwed up dream._ Roxas scratched the back of his neck, eyebrows knitting together as he tried to understand the peculiar girl. "Yeah, of course I know who I am," he said impatiently. "What kind of a question is that?"

Naminé shrugged absentmindedly. "A strange one, I suppose," she said vaguely, chuckling a little. "All the same, questions are meant to have answers."

"So? I gave you one."

"Yes," Naminé said, her smile dripping off her face like rain. "You did give me one." She crossed her ankles distractedly. "You only gave me one answer."

Roxas stared at her, lips pressed tightly together. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked sharply.

"Excuse me?" Naminé looked generally confused.

"That 'you only gave me one answer' bit," Roxas clarified, looking deeply annoyed. "You were insinuating something, weren't you?"

Naminé's smile returned. "Was I?"

Roxas scowled. "Yes."

"My goodness, I was hardly aware of it."

Roxas slumped in his seat, sulking. "Whatever…" There was probably going to be no winning with this girl. Geez. Were all women this goddamn confusing? "It's not like any of this is going to matter, anyway," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "This," he gestured to the blank room the two occupied, "none of this is real. This is all just a dream."

Naminé stared at him, looking stricken. She sighed and nodded, folding her hands in her lap. "I suppose you're right," she mused. "Nothing here is real…" she mumbled before going silent.

After a minute of silence had lapsed over the pair, Naminé finally spoke. "Roxas," she said, delicately smoothing her starch-white skirt, "why are you here?"

He couldn't help but smirk a little at this. "What, are you my shrink, now?" he joked with a humourless laugh.

Naminé let out a laugh of her own, the sound ringing throughout the bare white room like a silver bell. "If that's what you want," she giggled. "But, if it's all right with you, I'd prefer I be your friend, instead."

A frown slowly worked its way back to Roxas' face. "Were we friends before…?" his voice trailed off, much like his thoughts. He lowered his eyes, deeply puzzled. _Friends before what?_

Naminé seemed to sense his confusion. "I'd like to think we were," she said rather unhelpfully. "But it seems you've forgotten about me…"

Roxas snapped his head up, blue eyes wide with surprise. "What?" he gawked. He'd actually forgotten a _friend_? (_Wait, what the hell, I don't even know her. How do I know she's a friend?_) "How could I have forgotten about a friendship?" he asked wondrously, not sure whether to believe it or not.

The girl shrugged dolefully. "You do seem to have been doing that quite often, lately," she murmured, head tilting to the left to regard a rather abstract crayon drawing stuck to the wall; Roxas turned his head toward the picture. (Roxas was damn near positive that thing hadn't been there before. What the hell was it of, anyway? It just looked like a bunch of red, black, and yellow scribbles to Roxas.) "Both you and Sora."

Roxas nearly snapped his neck at the speed he'd turned back to face Naminé. "'Sora'?" he echoed, brows furrowed in frustration. He knew that name! …but how?

_"Giving up already? Come on, Sora. I thought you were stronger than that."_

Roxas' eyes widened in realisation. _Sora! He's that guy! He's the Boy!_

A sharp tremor ran straight to Roxas' skull and his hands flew to his head as he reeled in pain. Naminé looked on, a sympathetic expression adorning her soft features.

"You," Roxas ground out, teeth gritted in pain, "you know Sora, don't you?"

Naminé visibly winced, her eyes lowering to her feet. "Not really," she said gloomily, obviously saddened by this.

Roxas slammed a hand down on the table's reflective surface, the other hand tightly fisted in his hair, clenching at his throbbing headache. "But that means you know him a little!" he protested, mouth dry. "Please, Naminé," he begged imploringly. "Tell me who Sora is!"

_This could be it!_ Roxas thought wildly. _This could be the missing piece to the puzzle! This Sora guy is the key to everything, I just know it! If I meet him, then everything will make sense!_

"I cannot do that."

Roxas' jaw fell slack and he collapsed in his seat, mouth still agape. "W-what?" his voice trembled in disbelief, but this quickly bled away to anger. "Why not?!" he roared, jumping to his feet again, eyes cold and blazing.

Naminé remained expressionless and unyielding. "It's not my place," she replied smoothly. "The only person that will ever be able to tell you about Sora is Sora himself. I cannot help you and neither can Riku."

"You know Riku?!" Roxas exclaimed, not really thinking about how illogical he was being. Riku was just another character of his dreams. Him, Axel, and Naminé. Sora, too, he realised. _Really. What the hell am I getting so worked up over?_

Naminé gave him a wary look. "Yes," she answered simply. "In fact, Riku was the one who requested I speak to you." She paused, a small smile touching her lips. "Not that he needed to ask," she said shyly. "I was planning on it anyway…"

Roxas ignored this, still frozen on the fact that Naminé knew, she actually _knew_, Riku. Were dreams supposed to all coincide like this? Roxas doubted it, but decided to overlook this, seeing as all of his dreams corresponded to one another in some way, shape, or form. "How do you know Riku?" he asked sharply.

Naminé raised her pale eyebrows. "How do you know him?" she returned uncooperatively.

"He dropped in my flat the other night," Roxas snapped, his fists clenching and unclenching as his patience grew thin. "He and that Axel guy."

Naminé paled. "Axel?"

A blond eyebrow rose. "Oh, you know _him_, too?" _Figures_._ I'm the only one who doesn't know anyone._

Naminé didn't seem to have heard him; she looked about wildly, shoulders tense. "Is he still here?" she asked nervously, eyes shifting to all corners of the room. "Are you sure you weren't dreaming?"

"What are you talking about?" Roxas scoffed. "This is a dream, too."

Naminé rounded her lilac gaze on him, eyes panicked. "Does that really matter?" she asked in a deceptively patient voice. "Even in our dreams, don't we try to protect ourselves?"

"Are you trying to say that there's something here that I should be afraid of?"

She stiffly rose to her feet. "I'm saying that you should not be so quick to differentiate and dismiss reality from the dream." She reached out a hand and grasped him in an iron grip around his wrist. "I'm saying that you should strive to protect yourself, no matter what form you may be in."

Roxas' head throbbed painfully again, and he clapped his free hand to his temple, eyes screwing shut in silent agony as his mouth twisted into an awful grimace, his shoulders hunching in a mockery of an attempt to protect himself.

"What's wrong, Roxas?" Naminé asked softly, her voice wavering in barely-concealed alarm. She looked around nervously—what was she so worried about, anyway? The goddamn room had no doors for other people to get in through…wait, how did he get there in the first place? Oh…dream…that's right…

_God, my dreams are seriously fucked up…_ Roxas thought wearily, beads of sweat slipping down his neck.

She placed a cool hand to his forehead, chewing anxiously on her lower lip. "Riku wasn't right," she mumbled beneath her breath. "Though the chain is still imperfect, it is still far more complete than we assumed it to be… Certain parts of it have realigned faster than others. Entire pieces are still missing from both ends."

"The hell are you talking about?" Roxas growled through clenched teeth, fingers digging into his scalp as the sharp pain in his head magnified exponentially; it felt like someone had crudely smashed his head into a million bleeding pieces. He let out a feral roar of pain.

Naminé watched Roxas claw at his skull, her eyes full of pity. When she spoke, her voice was oddly hollow, "There is so much you do not understand."

Roxas' eyes flickered over to the petite blonde, gaze questioning, but Naminé ignored him.

Then a brisk chill swept down his neck, setting his hair on end as the room suddenly grew cold, the eerily white walls beginning to melt and fade away into a drab grey, darkening with each passing second.

Naminé's grip tightened significantly around Roxas' wrist. Her face paled further as she snapped her frantic gaze on the boy. "You must leave this place now!" she said sharply, eyes fearful.

"Why?" Roxas snapped back in aggravation. His headache was only getting worse as the room dimmed into blackness. He cast his eyes warily about the dying room. There was something just a little _off_ about this dream. Something more sinister than all those other dreams he'd had. Worse than those about Sora, whoever the hell he was. His stomach lurched unpleasantly.

"You_ must_ leave, Roxas!" Naminé pleaded, hands quaking in terror. "He's coming for you! I can't hold him off for long, I'm not that strong. He'll be upon us any minute now!"

Before Roxas could probe the girl for answers, she did a most curious thing: she thrust her hand out in front of her, and a dark, blazing mass of cold fire burst from the air, dripping black flames licking languidly at the tips of her fingers. She turned her focus back on Roxas. "He already knows where we are," she said hastily, eyes glittering. She nodded vaguely towards the strange black inferno, "If you go here, I can promise you that you'll be in a place where he can never find you."

Roxas blinked stupidly, not following Naminé in the slightest. "Wait, _what_?!" he shouted. "_Who's_ after me?! Is it Axel?—What the _fuck_ is going on?!"

Naminé ignored him and forcefully shoved him forward into the swirling black abyss. He fell backwards into the waiting arms of darkness, feeling its misty tendrils coil around him like a suffocating blanket. He instinctively fought against it, fists swinging and thrashing aimlessly at the black clouds. "N-Naminé!" he coughed, reaching out for the girl as it settled deep within his lungs. "H-help!"

The pale girl just flashed him the faintest of smiles, her eyes closed serenely as she waved. "You'll be safe!" she called out.

Roxas hardly believed that, and continued to fight against the constricting binds of darkness. But he was tired and still in pain from his sudden migraine, it easily took him in as his body fell slack. The last thing Roxas saw before his body and mind vanished into the shadows was a flash of golden light not far behind Naminé, forming a strange tornado of flying—_numbers?_—symbols, a tall, dark figure, and a piercing amber gaze.

* * *

**_Where…am I?_**_  
Who's there?  
**Who are you?**_

* * *

"**Hey! Hey! Are you all right?" an apprehensive voice beside him** called from far away.

Roxas' eyelids fluttered. _Wha…what's going on? Where am I?_ His left hand twitched slightly against the ground he lay on. It was cold and felt oddly like glass and metal framework.

"Oh, thank goodness!" the voice cried, sounding greatly relieved. "Man, you have no idea how freaked you made me!" The voice was boyish, probably belonging to a guy around his age, Roxas observed from his foggy state of delirium. He felt very far away from the boy that was apparently sitting beside him.

Roxas groaned heavily and weakly made to sit up. He fell backwards in his attempt, though, his head falling backwards awkwardly into someone's hands. Roxas opened his eyes tiredly. His vision was blurred and his head still ached like a bitch. At least the guy with him hadn't let his head crash painfully against the floor. Roxas was willing to bet that a concussion would do little to help his current situation.

"Am I still dreaming?" he asked dazedly as he blinked stupidly a few times, trying to clear his vision.

The boy next to him laughed brightly. "Gee," he guffawed, "I dunno. I was just about to ask you the same question!"

Roxas furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"

There was the softest rustle of fabric—Roxas had the strangest feeling that his comrade had shrugged. "I'm not really sure," the boy admitted sheepishly. "I just woke up myself…or, at least, I think I did…" The boy's voice trailed off. "So bizarre."

Roxas' eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. _"So bizarre."_ He knew that voice. Granted, it was a little different now, older, but he _knew_ it. He sat straight up in a jerky movement, much to the disapproval of the boy, and began rubbing furiously at his eyes. _No way_, Roxas thought with a deranged sort of giggle, _there's no possible way. No fucking way._

"You shouldn't have done that," the boy said grumpily. "You might hurt yourself with such impulsive actions…"

Roxas let out another hysterical laugh. _It's not possible._ He rubbed at his eyes with a little more vigour before removing his hands from his now-functional eyes and blinking slowly, taking in the world around him. It was…dark. Dark and cold. Glancing at the ground, Roxas knew he'd been right in thinking it felt like glass. The floor appeared to be some sort of an elaborate, super-sized stained-glass window, or something of that nature. Roxas idly wondered what it was of.

"You okay, there?" the boy asked from behind Roxas. The blond, slowly turned his head to get a good look at the one who had been tending to him. When his sapphire eyes fell upon those of the boy, Roxas' mouth fell open, unsure of whether to laugh or cry. The boy squatting on the ground behind him was none other than _the_ Boy—Sora. This was _Sora_. The illustrious Sora, in all of his gangly, spiky-haired, grinning glory. Sora in the flesh. (Except not really, because this was just a dream, and that meant he wasn't real.)

Roxas must have ended up crying—though he'd swear he didn't—because Sora hastily enveloped him in a great bear hug.

"It's all right," Sora said nonsensically into his ear. "We'll find a way out of this."

Roxas laughed through his tears. So Sora really was like he was in the dreams—or was this a dream, too?—so goddamn kind. It was almost sickening.

"Don't promise things you can't guarantee," Roxas mumbled unconsciously. Sora pulled away from him and fixed him with an expression of amusement.

"The only way that will guarantee us _not_ getting out of here is if we _don't_ try to get out," Sora said cheerfully. "So, I'm going to get us out of here. I don't like going back on my word."

Roxas stared at him blankly. "You're strange."

Sora laughed at this. "A lot of people say that," he snickered. "And then I kick their butts."

Roxas had to fight to keep himself from rolling his eyes._"Kick their butts", he says. God. What a kid. No wonder no one ever believed he was the Keybearer or whatever it was…_

"So, I'm Sora," Sora said, sticking out a hand. Roxas eyed it sceptically. The heavy gloves encasing the boy's hand were rather distracting. How on earth could he hold _anything_ with those blankets tied around his hands?

Roxas wanted to say 'I know,' but he wisely decided against it. In the off chance that he couldn't escape this fucked up dream without the help of Sora, he figured it'd be best if he at least _tried_ not to freak out the brunet. "I'm Roxas," he said weakly, carefully shaking Sora's hand. When their hands touched, Roxas could have sworn he heard a faint beating sound in the back of his head. _Goddamn headaches_. He retracted his hand as quickly as he could. It was like how he'd felt with that Axel character. Only different. There was a different sort of quality in the touch he'd had with Sora. With Axel, he had felt like he was surrounded in a blazing inferno. With Sora, Roxas felt that he was the exact opposite. He felt strangely hollow and cold. Sora's hand was warm. Roxas hoped Sora hadn't noticed this.

Sora pursed his lips and stared at Roxas thoughtfully, tilting his head to the side in wonder. "Y'know," Sora said at last, leaning back on his heels, "I'm getting the weirdest vibe from you…"

Roxas put on a nervous half-smile. "What are you talking about?"

Sora shrugged easily. "I don't really know. It's just a feeling." He smiled. "I keep getting the feeling that I know you. Are you getting that, too?"

Roxas felt a peculiar sense of violation in the pit of his stomach at the seemingly innocent question. "No," he said, perhaps a bit more bitterly than intended. "I've never met you in my life."

Sora stared at him for a moment, face skilfully blank, but at last he shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess you're right," he said lightly. "Still, all the same, I could swear that I know you from _something_…" Sora laughed a bit. "Geez, this is gonna bother me!" he laughed again, but his humour remained unappreciated by Roxas.

"Whatever," he said brusquely, slowly rising to his feet and scanning the area. "How the hell do we get out of here—hey! What the fuck's up with the floor?!"

"Aw, don't swear," Sora mumbled as he hopped to his feet. He glanced down at the ground before laughing again, this time in embarrassment. "Eheh, yeah, I really don't know."

Roxas shot him an indignant look. "How can you _not_ know?! Your face is depicted in the goddamn floor!" he hissed, pointing rudely at the giant blue eye the two boys stood on.

Sora shrugged awkwardly. "It kind of slipped my mind…I didn't think it'd be particularly important," he muttered, casting his eyes upward toward the nonexistent black sky. "Besides, it's not like I'm the only one on the floor's picture."

Roxas had to agree with this. He'd had enough dreams to be able to at least identify the Duck, the Dog, the Girl, and the Other Boy. "Where do you suppose we are?" he asked.

Sora shrugged. "I wish I knew. But, y'know, this place feels familiar…like from a dream or something." He furrowed his brow and scratched at his chin in thought. "I think I've been here before."

Roxas scowled. "Everything feels familiar to you," he scoffed.

Sora pouted childishly. "Shut up."

"Well, if you've been here before, you must've gotten out at some point…" he paused, staring at Sora with a fading sense of ease; the scrawny boy didn't really look all that dependable. "…unless you never left, and just fell asleep or something."

"Hey!"

"All I'm saying is that there must be a way out of here." Roxas took a couple steps forward, hands on his hips as he scanned the vast emptiness. It seemed like they were on a lone platform in the middle of a great void. "I mean, Naminé got me in, somehow, so—"

"'Naminé'?" Sora interjected. "You know her?"

Roxas nodded distractedly. _Geez. Does everyone in my dream world know each other?_ he wondered with a sigh. "Yeah. Do you?"

Sora opened his mouth to answer, but then froze, his eyes going curiously blank. "No," he finally said, looking dejected. "I don't think so…"

Roxas quirked an eyebrow. _Then why bother asking…?_

"Sorry…"

"Whatever," Roxas said dismissively. He took one more scrutinising look around the area before throwing his hands up in aggravation. "I can't find a way out."

"D'you think that we can walk on all this air?" Sora speculated aloud as he wandered over to the edge of the rounded glass platform. Roxas stalked over behind him and peered over sceptically at the never-ending darkness beneath them.

"I don't think this is such a good idea," he muttered, watching as the brunet toed the edge of the floor. "Careful there… You might fall over, and there is no way in hell that I'm going down there to save you."

Sora laughed as he leaned forward, trying to get a better look. "Learn to live a little, Roxas! Don't worry about me, I'll be just fine, Roxa—AHH!!" Sora nearly toppled over into the darkness, but he was barely saved by Roxas wrenching him back. The two teens collapsed on the cold ground behind them.

"Dammit! What'd I tell you, Sora?!" Roxas screeched, a vein pulsing in his neck. Sora laughed sheepishly.

"Sorry! It was a total accident, I swear!" he said weakly, holding out his hands in a gesture of peace.

Roxas glowered.

"Aw, don't look at me like that," Sora complained, turning his head away from the fuming blond. "So maybe jumping wasn't the best idea… Can you blame me? I was just trying to help us out. I highly doubt that you'd be cool with us being stuck here forev—_Hey!_ What's that over there?" Sora pointed over behind Roxas' shoulder. The blond turned, blinking in disbelief at the elaborate pink door standing in the middle of the floor.

"That wasn't there before, right?" Sora asked tentatively, rising to his feet and offering Roxas his hand—which was pointedly ignored by the blond.

"No, that wasn't there earlier," Roxas muttered grumpily. "It definitely wasn't. I think we would have noticed it."

Sora nodded dumbly. "That's what I figured." A wily sort of grin spread across his face. "So," he nudged Roxas in the shoulder excitedly, "we gonna open it or what?"

"Is that really a good idea?" Roxas asked the brunet, clearly cagey about the whole situation. "I can't help it, but I feel that we won't be safe once we pass through it…"

Sora screwed his face up. "Yeah," he said lamely, causing Roxas to groan. "You're probably right. I know I've said this all before, but this is really all very familiar to me…"

Roxas snorted.

Sora pouted. "Anyway, it's true that we won't be safe upon entering, but we mustn't be afraid." He smiled. "Because we hold the mightiest weapon of them all."

Roxas stared at him blankly. _This_ is_ familiar_, he realised as a shiver swept down his spine. _Where have I heard this before?_ He narrowed his eyes at the other boy. _Who is he?_ He was abruptly snapped back to reality when Sora waved a hand in front of his eyes, a broad grin on his face.

"Roxas, you're zoning," he laughed.

Roxas sulked. "Was not," he said with a huff, folding his arms across his chest. "So, are we going or not?" he asked impatiently, storming off for the door.

Sora snickered and hurried to catch up with him. "Look who's being all adventurous, now!"

Roxas shoved him, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Shut up."

The brunet continued to snigger at him, but immediately sobered once the pair stood before the towering door. "You ready?" he asked in a low voice, face surprisingly serious.

Roxas' eyes flickered up to get a better look at the door that loomed before them, its glossy marble-like surface shined brilliantly with an ethereal glow. He took a slow, steadying breath and nodded. "Yeah," he mumbled. "No time like the present."

Sora nodded and placed his hand on the doorknob and made to open the door, but he paused halfway through the process to turn to Roxas and grin awkwardly.

"What?" Roxas asked, a bit more snappishly than intended. "Do you want me to open it for you?"

Sora dropped his hand from the door handle and let out a heavy bark of laughter. "It's not that," he said wryly, "the door is locked."

"_Locked_?" Roxas was almost considering jumping off the edge of the platform. "Well, then, let's open it."

"What, you mean break it down?" Sora glanced at the door incredulously. "I don't think that'll work, Roxas. This door looks pretty solid to me."

Roxas silently agreed—though there was no way he'd tell Sora that. "So what do you propose? A key, maybe?"

He hadn't intended for this to be a joke—it was _supposed_ to be witty sarcasm, but the brunet apparently found it very hysterical, judging from how he was doubled over in laughter. Roxas wrinkled his nose. "What's so funny?" he scoffed.

Sora wiped a tear from one of his bright eyes, smiling in a nostalgic sort of _"ah, those were the days!"_ way. "It's nothing," he said a little too happily. "It's just that, well, I just remembered something! Geez, I'm so dumb!"

Roxas suppressed the urge to burst into his own fit of laughter. _It took him this long to realise that? Imbecile_, he thought snidely; but, to Sora, he said, rather patiently, "That was meant to be sarcasm, you know."

Sora fixed him with a wolfish grin. "I know," he said obviously. "But you were right, too. Here, check this out…" He extended an arm, closing his eyes and knitting his brows together in concentration. Then, a golden light, much brighter than anything Roxas had ever seen in his lifetime, burst from his hand, golden swirls and sparkles of light dancing around Sora before eventually clinging to each other to form something solid. The light grew even more brilliant, and Roxas had to shield his eyes from the blinding flash. When he lowered his hand, Sora was holding something in his hands. Something very solid and _very_ familiar.

_Goddammit, dreams aren't supposed to be like this._

"The Keyblade," Roxas breathed, voice wavering. Sora looked surprised.

"Yeah! How'd you know?"

Roxas let out a shaky laugh. "Lucky guess," he murmured. He pointedly looked away from the unusual weapon in Sora's hand. "So, what're you gonna do with it?"

Sora blew a raspberry. "Well, I'm obviously gonna open the door," he drawled, as if he were talking to a four year old.

"How the hell does that work?" Roxas asked, now more curious than anything else. He remembered how it had been much more effective in defeating the weird Picture Thief-Monster. _Is he going to break the door down?_ he wondered absentmindedly.

"Well," Sora began, spinning the Keyblade around in his hand expertly, "the Keyblade is technically a key. Keys open doors."

The blond turned back to regard him with a surprised expression. "The Keyblade can open doors?"

"Yup." Sora jumped back and, holding the Keyblade tightly in his hands, pointed it at the door. A pinpointed beam of light burst from the blade and flew into the keyhole of the door. A soft, barely audible click resounded in the darkness.

Roxas let out a low whistle of appreciation. "Impressive," he said with a nod as he turned the doorknob and got ready to open the door, his piercing blue eyes boring into the glossy pink surface.

Sora laughed and rubbed at his nose. "I guess, but after you see it a couple dozen times, it's hardly miraculous," he said lightly, shouldering the Keyblade. "So, we ready?"

Roxas nodded and threw open the door.

* * *

_But don't be afraid. And don't forget…  
But don't be afraid. You hold the mightiest weapon of them all.  
So don't forget: You are the one who will open the door.  
_

* * *

**The Afterword:** Haha, this was a sucky chapter, eh? D8 No Axel or anything… XD

I must admit, I nearly died on you guys with this one. I must've given myself a haemorrhoid trying to pull this out of my ass…

I've got another Kingdom Hearts fic in the process, and I've already written a couple of pages for it, but before I post that one, I need a bit of a heads up on how many of you guys are at least a _little_ familiar with Jewish customs and if you guys are familiar with your classic Yiddish expressions (i.e. _'oy, vey!'_). XD Haha, you guys'll shoot me for where I go with this… _:flees:_

But seriously, back to this fic… I was originally gonna make it a bit longer, but I ended up deciding to cut it off where I did. :0 There really is no reasoning behind my decision other than the fact that I'm a fiend for dramatics, and I took a great liking to ending it with that quote. XD _:shot:_

Next chapter will be longer and it will have Riku _and_ Axel in it. XD Sorry to those of you that I disappointed with this one…


	3. xii : the secret place

**Summary:** (slight AU) Dreams always result in an awakening, and twilight always fades. What if Roxas had left Twilight Town with Axel? (AkuRoku, RikuSora, implied Zemyx)  
**Disclaimer:** Ha! If only! D8  
**Rant:** Oh my God, I am horrendous at combat scenes… DX Do me a favour and don't bite my head off for them. D: I know they suck, and the most I can do at this point is learn to improve them… (How I'll do that, I've yet to find out…)  
Crud. It's December, now—almost January, actually—and I still have yet to finish this one. D8 This chapter was such a pain in the ass for me. I can't even tell you. Between the action scenes and the general anger… _:groans:_ I've discovered that I have no capacity for writing about angry people. _:rolls eyes:_ Who'd a thunkit?  
So, it's Christmas Eve tomorrow, I totally missed Chanukah with _any_ updates, which totally pisses me off…but, all the same, it's kinda late to be complaining about that, eh? _:sighs:_ This is taking a long time. I blame it on the "third chapter bump"-theory, but, y'know, that's just me making excuses…  
OH. SHIT. So…it's 2008, now… _:shot:_ D: Happy New Year, people. Please don't kill me.  
**Notes:** Regarding the random snippets of disjointed conversation…uhh…just take it in stride, people. This story is written from Roxas' viewpoint, and as such, you will be getting a whole buttload of these random jumps on tangents, 'cause that's how I see his current state of mind. He's going through some pretty confusing times, and all those dreams and random migraines aren't helping. :P

* * *

**Started:** November 17, 2007.**  
Completed:** January 4, 2008.

* * *

**Twilight**  
_xii : the secret place_

* * *

**Roxas' sneakers squeaked loudly on the glass floors** as he passed through the door and into the next room—though, it was really more of a platform, just as in the place he and Sora had come from. Roxas glanced down toward the ground, noting to himself that Sora's face was, in fact, not depicted in the floor of this area. Sora himself followed slowly after Roxas through the doorway. He looked around at their surroundings with mild intrigue.

"This place is creepy, Roxas," Sora mumbled absentmindedly, his grip tightening unconsciously on the handle of his Keyblade.

Roxas turned slightly to regard the brunet with a teasing smirk. "Do I detect a little _fear_, Sora?" he drawled, eyebrows rising in amusement. "Whatever happened to your unwavering courage?"

Sora shoved the blond. "I am not scared," he huffed as he stomped into the centre of the platform. His blue eyes roved over the expanse of the elaborate floor before lighting up. "Look, Roxas," he called to the blond, pointing over at the far side of the platform area. "Check it out—stairs!"

Roxas glanced over in the direction indicated and blinked. There indeed was an eerily floating staircase curling from their platform and ending at what appeared to be yet another. "Do we go up it?" he asked dumbly.

Sora lowered his hand and scratched his head. "I think so," he said lamely. "I mean…it's not like there's any other way to get out of here, is there?"

Roxas scowled. "How the hell did we get here in the first place, then?" he challenged. "I sure as hell don't remember walking down any stairs or whatever."

The brunet frowned slightly. "C'mon, Roxas, you have to work with me," he pleaded. "Something in my gut tells me that we have to cooperate with each other if we wanna get out of here."

Roxas sighed. "Whatever," he muttered through gritted teeth. "Just get me out of here."

Sora's head bobbled in an energetic nod. "Sure! Let's go!" he snatched Roxas by the wrist and dragged him towards the stairs. However, just as they reached the rising staircase, a cluster of strange monsters—_Hey! Those guys are the same as the picture thief!_—came at the pair from all sides. Sora quickly deflected them with a swift block from his Keyblade.

"What_ are_ these things?!" Sora shouted as he lashed at one, smacking it in the side of its head.

Roxas dodged a painful looking swipe from one of the monsters, jumping back a few feet and regrouping with Sora. "I was hoping you'd know!" he snapped back. "You're the one that's been here longer!"

Sora turned away from his attacking monsters for a brief second to glare at Roxas. "I told you! I've been sleeping!" he protested, spinning around and executing a combination of rapid slashes on the enemy, causing one to explode and sizzle away into black smoke. Roxas' eyes widened in horror as the monster disintegrated.

_He…it just… It just faded…_

Roxas' daze left him frozen in surprise, and one of the mysterious creatures immediately jumped him. Roxas' mind hazily registered Sora shout his name from somewhere far off, and the damage being done unto him, but it was only when the creature lowered its face to his ear and began to speak that Roxas began to scream in agony. _Number XIII_, the monster crooned, _when are you coming home?_

"_Get away_!!" Roxas shrieked, bashing at its skull with clenched fists, eyes tightening shut with panic and fear. "Get the _fuck_ away from me!!"

And suddenly, there was a flash of golden light and the monster burst into smoke. Roxas' eyes flew open in surprise. _Wh-what just happened?_ Sora was still battling with four of the creatures a couple metres away, but the one that had pinned him had completely disappeared. _Did I kill it…? How…?_ The blond looked down at his hands, his shock only multiplying at what he saw being held in his sweaty grasp.

A Keyblade had formed in his hand like second nature, just like before with the picture thief. However, unlike before, something was different.

_…two?_

Two Keyblades were humming in his hands; one burning with a black, cold glow, the other glistening serenely in an elegant, feminine way. Roxas stared at them, mouth agape. _What…?_

"Hey, Roxas!" Sora suddenly shouted from deep within his crowd of enemies. "Are you okay?!"

Roxas blinked mutely. Had the other boy seen what just happened? _No_, Roxas realised, _he's swarmed by those mons—oh shit._

Without another thought, the blond quickly sprinted off to aid Sora, his stance low and compact as he dragged the Keyblades behind him, sparks flying off as they scratched the ground—it was only much later that he dimly wondered how he'd pulled that technique from nothingness. He leapt into the air and pounced on a monster, hacking at it with both Keyblades until it vanished. He approached another the same way, spinning around to meet it before slicing through its sinewy flesh in one continuous stroke.

Sora, having cut down the last of their opponents, gave him an appreciative look and rushed over to meet the blond. "That was sick!" he exclaimed. Then he saw the Keyblades, and his eyes widened in amazement. "Roxas," he breathed, "you have _two_?"

Roxas idly looked down at the Keyblades—they were shaking in his grip. "I guess," he muttered, not really sure of what was happening.

Sora apparently didn't, either, but he was not at all troubled by this. "That's so cool! I mean—Oathkeeper and Oblivion? How'd you get them…? I thought I was the only—but two!! At the same time! How'd you do that?! I wish I could… How do you manage them? I have a difficult enough time holding one; it's always making my hand go numb…" Sora rambled on, apparently oblivious to Roxas' discomfort.

He stared down mutely at the two weapons in his hands. Their constant vibration was making his hands feel funny—he almost wanted to cast the weapons as far away from himself as he could. Something about them was making him feel…dirty.

"Hey, what's that over there?" Sora suddenly asked, looking off near the centre of the platform.

Roxas quickly shook himself from his reverie and turned to look, half-expecting to see another random door. Instead, an oddly ornate treasure chest sat innocently in the centre of the platform, an oversized keyhole fitted into its clasp.

Sora rushed over to it and eagerly pointed his Keyblade at it, unlocking the chest with an effective 'click.' The box's lid swung open and the brunet dropped to his knees, curious to see what was inside. Roxas slowly approached the box and gazed into it, raising his eyebrows at its contents: one crystal flask filled with a strange sort of bubbling green _ooze_.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "What is that?" he asked Sora, who had the most delighted expression adorning his face.

Sora gave him an incredulous look. "How do you _not_ know what this is?!" he demanded, holding the flask close to his face. Roxas fought the urge to look away. The green glow cast by the contents of the flask was giving Sora's youthful face a diseased and almost wicked look, the eerie radiance having deepened all the shadows on his face and given his grin a sinister edge. _My God, he looks like a monster…_

When Roxas finally did look away, Sora lowered the flask—_Thank goodness…_—and smiled brightly, his face regaining its cheerful and innocent disposition. "It's an Elixir," he explained patiently. "It helps you regain all your strength and energy and stuff." He smirked a little. "Geez, I can't believe you didn't know that. For someone who's killer awesome with a Keyblade—sorry, Keyblade_s_—I'd have thought you knew your healing potions and all that."

Roxas coloured slightly across the bridge of his nose in embarrassment. "Shut up," he griped. "Unlike some people," he said loudly, "I live a quiet life as a normal, unobtrusive teenager."

"Unobtrusive, huh?" Sora chuckled softly before rising to his feet and pocketing the flask somewhere among his deep cargos. "Y'know, Roxas," he said slowly, "considering you use two Keyblades, I don't think you have the right to call yourself normal, at all."

The blond glared. "You're not very normal yourself, in that case. You use a Keyblade, too, in case you haven't noticed."

Sora shrugged carelessly and started up the staircase. "Yeah," he agreed with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But I'm still more normal than you. I only use _one_." He laughed. "So, I'm a human…and you're…you're…" he frowned, apparently at a loss for what to label Roxas as.

The blond in question swallowed a lump in his throat and unconsciously tightened his grips on his Keyblades as a strange chill descended upon him, swallowing him whole. "I'm a_ what_?" he asked sharply, voice cracking slightly. His gaze was locked on the glass floor, refusing to meet Sora's eyes.

Sora pursed his lips as he gave the other boy a scrutinising look. Finally, he smiled and proceeded to ascend the staircase. "You're just Roxas," he said at last.

Roxas' head snapped up, blue eyes wide and oddly filled with tears. He silently watched the brunet walk away before slowly following, rubbing at his eyes furiously with the back of his fist.

_Yeah_, he thought to himself with a sniffle. _That's right. I'm just me. I'm just Roxas._

That is what he told himself, over and over again as he climbed up the stairs behind Sora. With every step he took, he told himself this. _I am Roxas. I am Roxas. I am Roxas._

But even though he continued the say this mantra…

_I am Roxas._

He didn't really believe it.

* * *

"_You are a Nobody."_

* * *

**Considering how many times Roxas and Sora got jumped** in the short journey they made up the stairs, it was a miracle that they hadn't toppled right off the staircase and plummeted into the dark abyss. By the time they finally made it to the platform, Roxas was just about ready to collapse with exhaustion and the Keyblades in his hands felt like lead weights. When Sora noticed this, he burst into hysterical laughter, his Keyblade dissipating so he could clutch the stitch in his side.

"Roxas," he snickered, "you're not tired already, are you?"

Roxas shot the brunet a sour glare. "Don't make me kill you," he snarled, to which Sora just waved him off dismissively, still stifling chuckles. In an effort to shut the sniggering boy up, Roxas made an unsubtle change of subject. "What gives?" he asked loudly. "There's nowhere to go from here! We've reached a dead end."

This indeed silenced Sora's laughter. "Are you kidding me?" he asked incredulously, running about on the large platform before finally coming to a halt several metres away. "There's gotta be a way out… Maybe there's a trick to it…"

Roxas scowled deeply. "I _knew_ this was a bad idea," he griped.

Sora gave him a stricken look. "Well, I didn't hear you coming up with any better ideas…" he retorted with a wounded pout.

Roxas groaned, his Keyblades seemingly popping into golden light as he tightened his fisted hands in aggravation. "Okay, fine," he snapped. "It's not _entirely_ your fault—"

"_Hey_!"

"But, the point is that you were still right," Roxas said slowly, through clenched teeth.

Sora fixed him with a wide-eyed stare. "I was right?" he echoed, blinking owlishly. Roxas couldn't help but groan internally._ Clearly_, this was a rare occurrence. (_And probably for good reason_, he added snidely.)

"What was I right about?" Sora asked, bemused.

Roxas pinched the bridge of his nose. _Good Lord, is he always like this? Shouldn't he have grown out of it or something?_ he wondered tiredly. "You were right about the fact that we'd have to work together to get out."

Sora stared at him blankly. "How's that?"

Roxas twitched slightly. "How should _I_ know?!" he hissed. "_You're_ the one who said it!"

"But, _you're_ the one agreeing with it!" Sora protested, flustered, as he waved his arms about wildly.

"Fine!_ Fine_!" Roxas barked. He paused for a moment to make sure Sora was listening—and to regain his composure. "I don't know why I think you're right," he muttered at last. "I just do. I can't explain it."

Sora, surprisingly, looked quite content with this response and grinned. "Good," he said cheerfully. "It'll definitely be a lot easier for us to get out of here, now that we know we're on the same page.

Roxas managed a small half-smile. "I'm sure," he said quietly, his posture relaxing considerably. "So," he said with a much broader smile, "what do we do from here, Sora? You're the guy who said this is familiar, after all. What happens next?"

"Hmm…" Sora scratched his chin and stuck out his lower lip, his eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration as he hunched his shoulders—_Oh my God, is that his thinking face?!_

When the brunet opened his eyes, he looked rather unsettled—something that disturbed Roxas exponentially.

"You okay?" Roxas asked him carefully.

Sora nodded slowly, his hands, by contrast, quickly summoning his silver Keyblade. "Yeah," he said quietly, crouching into what was clearly a fighting stance.

The blond narrowed his eyes slightly. "You don't look all right," he observed dryly. "So, what do we do now?" he asked, slightly thrown by Sora's attack position.

"Get you Keyblades ready," Sora said curtly, blue eyes swiftly roving over the expanse of the platform as he sprinted over to Roxas, taking a position where he was back to back with the blond.

Roxas hurriedly summoned his Keyblades, nearly dropping them in his haste. "Why?" he whisper-shouted as he settled himself into an oddly familiar stance, his feet spread far apart from each other and his Keyblades held firmly in each hand, both weapons stretched out as extensions from his arms.

Sora quickly glanced over and grunted in approval. "Cool stance," he said vaguely, not really answering Roxas' question.

The blond furrowed his eyebrows as he deepened his stance further. "I…guess…" he mumbled, feeling rather bewildered. _This feels…familiar._

"Sora," Roxas hissed, not daring to look back at his comrade, "what're we doing?!"

"Quiet," Sora shushed him, chewing anxiously on his lower lip. "Something's gonna attack us."

Roxas' eyes widened. "_What_?!"

"_Roxas_! Please, be quiet," Sora murmured, his shoulders tensing. "Look, from what I remember, something is gonna attack us. Something big."

"And what, we're expected to _fight_ it?!"

"Shush! Yeah. We have to win in order to get out," Sora explained vaguely. "Otherwise…well…"

"We die?" Roxas supplied helpfully.

Sora frowned. "No. We don't die."

"Oh."_ Well, that doesn't make this sound nearly as serious as he lead me to believe_, Roxas thought with a sigh of relief. "That's good."

"No," Sora said flatly. "It's not. Death is better."

Roxas' eyes widened. "What could be worse than death?" he wondered aloud.

"If we fail to defeat the enemy, we'll be sucked into the darkness, never to escape."

Roxas swallowed a lump in his throat and let out a high-pitched laugh. "So, no pressure, right?" he joked.

Sora chuckled at this. "That's right. None at all."

Roxas' eyes swerved over the vast space around them, eyes peeling as he searched for their assailant. He and Sora stood there, back to back, for a good twenty minutes, just watching and breathing shallow breaths.

The blond was just about to wipe some sweat from his brow when the ground suddenly began to shake ominously. He took a deep inhale, his grip on his Keyblades tightening, the handles slipping in his sweaty palms.

Sora nudged him softly with his elbow, face oddly calm considering the scenario. "Don't worry, man," he said confidently. "We'll win."

Roxas had been about to respond when a giant monster—_HOLY SHIT_—that looked like an overgrown and bulkier version of the picture thief appeared, swimming through the air and landing heavily on the platform to the left side of Sora, the right of Roxas.

"Can we win…against that?" Roxas gasped, eyes wide as he fought to keep his legs from giving out under him.

Sora adjusted his stance to face the creature and he nodded affirmatively. "We can do it," he proclaimed. "We _have_ to."

Roxas swallowed grimly and nodded, altering his own stance and taking a deep, calming breath. "Are you ready?" he asked softly, voice now stripped of fear.

Sora grinned at him, blue eyes dancing with excitement. He then nodded. "See you on the topside, Roxas." And he dashed off to attack the monster, Roxas tore up the glass behind him as he darted alongside the brunet, dragging the Keyblades along the ground.

Both boys leapt at their foe, weapons drawn and rapidly advancing towards the strangely motionless creature. But mere seconds before they could reach their target, the monster swiftly jerked out of reach and wound through the air, landing gracefully on the ground behind them, still making no attempt at attack.

Sora and Roxas charged their enemy again, this time, landing consecutive hits, Roxas rapidly hacking into its sinewy flesh while Sora unleashed a single heavy blow then spinning off his rebound to make another and another.

The monster trembled beneath their siege and slithered away, but this time, barbed threads of solid _air_ began weaving intricate patterns around Roxas and Sora before spontaneously evaporating. Both teens just barely evaded the attacks, Roxas skidding to a harried stop and spinning away from another spire as Sora launched himself off the ground and flipped effortlessly through the air before landing in a controlled crouch and taking off toward the creature again, Roxas hot on his heels. Another tendril of air shot across their path, Sora slid expertly underneath it, not the least bit delayed, and Roxas made a quick jump over it before sprinting off with Sora to the monster, Keyblades poised and ready. Sora made a shallow blow to the monster's side before leaping back, and Roxas managed to lay a critical strike one of its muscular arms. When the monster made no further sign of dissipating again, Roxas seized the opportunity to bludgeon it as quickly and as effectively as he could.

Then, a sudden pain shot through his arms and legs. He looked up, blue eyes wide in disbelief at the spiny air tubules coiled themselves senselessly around his arms and legs and roughly hurled him up into the air and over the ledge.

"_Roxas_!!" Sora shouted as the blond was carried over. He dashed over to the edge of the platform, nearly falling off the edge, cold sweat dripping down his neck as he looked down. He took a deep breath, and threw himself off the edge.

Roxas' fall was abruptly cut short to a painful stop by the thorny ropes of air, and he struggled frantically from his place suspended in midair as he desperately tried to free himself. Then, the strange creature slithered in front of Roxas and shot its long, wiggling arms at him and wrapped them around and around his thrashing form and _squeezing_ the life out him.

Roxas gasped as the air was forcefully pushed out of his lungs, and his eyes scrunched shut in pain. He reopened them in time to see Sora come flying down from above and land a powerful hit on the monster and send it flailing. The brunet kicked off its head and propelled himself at Roxas, seizing the blond around the waist before fighting his way back through the spines of air in order to reach the platform. He barely made it to the top, nearly toppling over in exhaustion.

The two lay there for a brief moment, chests heaving and muscles aching. Roxas cast his eyes over at Sora. It was clear that he had expended a lot of strength in saving him, and he somehow doubted Sora would be able to go running off to defeat the monster any time soon. Roxas forced himself to his feet and summoned his Keyblades before sinking into a defensive stance, eyes flickering from one area of the emptiness to another. The creature reappeared and rapidly swam through the air, landing in the centre of the platform. Something about it looked different, though, Roxas noted. Strange wisps of black smoke were dissipating from its form—sort of like with those other creatures; they started smoking away just before they died. Roxas' eyes lit up. _Was the monster dying?_ Without really thinking, Roxas charged at the creature, weapons dragged along the ground. This was his chance—maybe his _only_ chance.

_I can't expect people to save me every time_, Roxas thought fiercely as he hacked at the monster, dancing out of the reach of the barbed air and flipping over the creature's groping hands. _I have to protect people, too_. Roxas whacked it across its skull, the hit making a sickening crack. The enemy let out an ethereal, hollow-sounding wail of pain before shirking from view. Roxas didn't wait to see if it would return and quickly hurried back over to Sora, who still was recuperating on the far side of the platform.

Sora gave him an appraising look. "That was impressive, Roxas."

Roxas smiled slightly but brushed off the compliment, moving instead to help check the other for external injuries. Sora swatted his hands away with a grin.

"I'm totally fine," he assured Roxas. "No way could that thing hurt me."

Roxas rolled his eyes. "Sure," he said in an overly blasé voice. "And I'm sure that you could have fought it off from your position here on the ground, too…"

Sora snickered and rubbed his nose. "_Obviously_."

Their laughter was abruptly silenced when the monster rematerialized right over their heads and sent tendrils of cutting air at them, missing them by centimetres. The two promptly summoned their Keyblades and unleashed hell on the creature, both making strategic attacks on its head and easily ducking out of its attack range.

A few minutes into the game of hit-and-dodge, Roxas became slightly cocky with his attacks and chose to instead try and land an intricate combo on the creature. (How he knew how to execute such an attack was beyond him, but that wasn't really the point.) He had just made his sixth consecutive hit and, having found it impossible to pull away from his target, consequently fell prey to one of _its_ attacks and was sent flying off to the side.

Roxas lay face-flat on the ground for a second, utterly dazed and unrecognising the situation—_What were those sounds? Sounds like battle cries or something… Is Pence playing one of those video games, again? Or maybe it's_—his eyes widened as comprehension dawned on him—_Sora?_ A hand roughly jerked him to his feet, and Roxas looked up dumbly at the tall cloaked figure before him. Roxas squinted at the man—_Yeah. He's definitely a guy._—in confusion. _Why do they need to dress like this, goddammit… I can't tell who's who!_

After weighing his two options, he chose one. "Riku?" he tried.

"Roxas," Riku said as a greeting, "you must leave this place at once."

Roxas gawked at him, completely forgetting about Sora and the mysterious enemy. "_Leave_? But why?" he asked, bewildered.

Riku made a humming sound from deep within his hood. "There are things here that you do not understand," he said in a low voice. "Things that you cannot understand."

"Then teach me!" Roxas shouted, suddenly feeling his temper flare as hidden, unsatisfied aggravation blazed within him like an inferno. "Why the hell do you all think I can't understand?!"

Riku took a step closer, and Roxas could just see the glint of sharp, amber coloured eyes. "There is so little you understand," he whispered harshly.

Roxas' eyes flashed angrily as he spun around on his heel. "Fuck you, I'm going to help Sora kill that asshole, then we'll team up on you," he said flatly, stomping off toward Sora and the monster. (Oddly, the brunet seemed to be doing a decent job of fighting the creature off by himself. It was oddly…_nostalgic_ and just a little upsetting for Roxas to watch.)

Riku grabbed the blond's shoulder and halted him. "No," he grunted, all hostility muted from his voice. "This is important. You cannot linger here much longer."

Roxas turned around to fix Riku with a bemused look. "Why not?" he demanded. "I can't just stand by and let Sora fight that…thing…by himself!"

"He already was fighting it by himself," Riku mumbled in a barely audible tone. Roxas' eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"What's that?" he challenged with a pointed glare.

Riku stiffened and he shook his head. "Nothing," he replied softly, his shadowed eyes watching the brunet take on the giant creature. He tore his eyes away from Sora and instead looked at Roxas—once again giving Roxas the feeling that he was making sure not to stare him in the eyes. "We must leave, Roxas."

"God_ damn_ it," Roxas swore with an exaggerated roll of the eyes. "Why the hell should I leave?! I can't leave Sora behind to fight that thing!"

Riku's grip on his shoulder tightened. "Roxas," he hissed, "I know you do not like me, and you certainly have reason for that—"

_Wait, wait, what?_

"—but now is _not_ the time for that! You _have_ to leave, _now_. If you do not, you may disappear into oblivion."

Roxas glowered up at the taller male. "Why should I listen to you?" he asked snobbishly, choosing to ignore the tremor of fear that shot through him at Riku's warning.

"You don't have to. But know that this isn't my request," Riku growled, his fingers digging into Roxas' shoulder blade. "These are Axel's."

The expression of hate melted off the blond's face and his eyes grew slightly larger. "Axel's?" he asked, all maliciousness gone from his voice. "What does Axel have to do with this?" Roxas wondered aloud, trying very hard not to notice that bizarre sense of warmth that swept through his body when he said the redhead's name._ Axel…Axel…_ The name really did taste just like chocolate on his tongue, melting and leaving that pleasantly satisfied feeling to it. Roxas quickly fought to clear his mind and restrain the faint tinge of pink that was threatening to stain his cheeks.

If Riku noticed his discomfort, he mercifully chose to ignore it. "It's very important to Axel that you leave this place, now," he told the blond, wondering to himself why the hell he hadn't brought Axel into the conversation earlier. (God, who'd he been kidding? Roxas wouldn't listen to anything that wasn't related to Axel in some way or form. Damn it! Axel had been right, the bastard.)

Roxas gave him an apprehensive look. "Is it really serious?" he asked tentatively.

Riku nodded sombrely. "Very. It's most urgent that you leave this place and see Axel, now…practically bordering on life and death, actually."

Roxas pensively chewed on his lower lip. His gut feeling was telling him to go along with Riku and to trust Axel's orders, but _still_…what on earth was so important about him leaving? And what about Sora? Ws he gonna stay or come along?

"What about Sora?" Roxas asked, voicing his concern.

"He can stay here." Riku's posture relaxed slightly. He turned his head slightly to gaze over as Sora valiantly continued his solo battle against the monster. "Don't worry about him," he added, and Roxas could feel the warmth and admiration radiating from his voice. "He'll definitely be all right. He has a strong heart."

Roxas stared out at Sora, who gave him a brief grin and made a waving gesture, as if telling him not to worry, that he'd be all right. (Though it did seem oddly like the brunet did not see Riku's towering form…) Roxas smiled faintly, suddenly confident with a foreign sense of ease and familiarity, and turned back to the hooded man before nodding slowly. "Okay," he said at last, extending a hand out to Riku. "I'll go with you. Take me to Axel."

Riku stared out blankly at Roxas' hand—_was that a grimace?_—before he grunted an affirmative and grabbed the blond's hand with one of his own and thrust out the other, summoning a portal of black, icy fire, just as Naminé had. "This way," he said, leading Roxas towards the portal. "Do _not_ let go of my hand. If you do, there's no guarantee where you'll end up, and I'm not willing to go off and try to find you…"

Roxas nodded dumbly as he tried to ignore the frigid black flames licking at his body and the oddly empty feeling they instilled in him. And as he followed Riku through a world of black and ice, he couldn't help but wonder to himself, _Riku said that Sora could stay there because he has a strong heart. But, he also said that if I stayed, I'd definitely be destroyed. Does this mean that I _don't_ have a strong heart?_

* * *

_Ones born of the heart and darkness, devoid of hearts, ravage all worlds and bring desolation._

* * *

**Roxas clung to Riku's hand for dear life as they traipsed** through the dark abyss. When he squinted through the flickering flames, Roxas could just make out the pinpricks of coloured spheres hovering in the distance, each one a glowing mass of light. Riku pulled them over to a green and black ball of smoke.

Riku extended an arm and reached his hand into the smoke. Roxas watched warily as the rounded cloud misted up Riku's arm, wisps of dark smoke flaring at his touch. The man let out a satisfied grunt and withdrew his hand.

"This is the place," Riku stated, tugging on the blond's arm to get him closer to the flashing cloud.

"What do you mean?" Roxas asked, eying the sphere sceptically. It certainly didn't look like anything significant, much less something useful.

"This is a direct portal to where we want to go," Riku explained.

"You mean it'll take us to Axel?" were the words that came spilling out of Roxas' mouth.

Riku nodded after a moment. "It's actually a bit more complicated than that," he said. "But, to avoid me lecturing you,—it'll take a while to explain—for all intensive purposes, we'll say yes."

Roxas wrinkled his nose slightly. _That asshole is talking down to me, isn't he?_ Roxas was fully prepared to mouth Riku off when a deep rumbling sounded from within the darkness of the man's hood. Roxas gawked at him. _Is he _laughing_ at me?_

When Riku finally silenced his chuckles, he squeezed Roxas' hand affectionately. "He used to give me that same look," Riku mused, his voice sounding far away and dreamy.

_Who did?_ Roxas stared at the man blankly, torn between the desire to rip his hand out of Riku's uncomfortably strong grasp and the urge to press further for details. Roxas couldn't help but be incredibly curious about the man cloaked in darkness. _Who do I remind him of?_ Roxas wondered, although a nagging in the back of his head suggested snappily that he already knew—which he most certainly didn't. _And why is he working with Axel, anyway?_ Roxas frowned. _That_ didn't make much sense. It was pretty clear to Roxas that the redhead did have some sort of personal reason to be interacting with Roxas—_God, what did that look in his eyes mean?_—but Riku, it seemed, didn't really know Roxas at all, and he and Axel didn't portray the image of being particularly tight friends, either. _Actually, I don't think they can really stand each other…_ Roxas was pretty certain of this—there had definitely been a rift of understanding between the two men, and a distinct air of distrust in the air that night—

_Wait a minute. That was a dream._

Roxas froze, and Riku, feeling the blond tense, glanced at him curiously. "Is there something wrong?" the hooded figure asked, stooping slightly so he was, presumably, eye-level with Roxas.

_Not that it really matters,_ Roxas thought snidely. _I can't see his face either way._

"Roxas," Riku tried again, "what's up?"

Roxas narrowed his blue eyes. "Why should I believe anything you say?" he demanded, voice cold and direct. "Give me a reason to trust you."

Riku watched him silently for a moment before shaking his head slightly. "Who else are you gonna believe?" he asked neutrally, aggravating the blond with his nonchalance. "Everyone else around here is some kind of brainless, mindless _zombie_."

Roxas held back a cringe. _That much is true_, he begrudgingly acknowledged. Axel and Riku were the only people Roxas had ever encountered in Twilight Town who seemed to think—_No_, Roxas realised as he suddenly was hit by a wave of comprehension. No, Axel and Riku had more than the opinion that every civilian from Twilight Town was deranged—they _knew_ it.

"Besides," Riku continued aimlessly, his voice flowing about him like a thick fog, "even if you _don't_ trust me, you can't deny that you wanna come with me," he said, a definite smirk in his voice.

Roxas scowled deeply at him, which caused Riku to laugh quietly. "You really do resemble him," Riku murmured fondly, reaching a hand out to caress Roxas' cheek.

Roxas' eyes grew wide and he jerked away, slapping the man's hand away as that same bizarre sense of violation filled him again. "Don't touch me," he hissed, violently wrenching his arm from Riku's grasp.

Riku swiftly rose to his full height and towered over him, his posture stiff and holding none of the quiet warmth he'd had just a moment ago. "You have no reason to trust me," he said flatly, nearly making Roxas gawk in disbelief. "I don't know you, and you _definitely_ don't know me. However," he extended that same hand out to Roxas, "I made myself a promise a while back, and I intend on keeping that promise."

Roxas eyed the hooded man with scrutiny. There was something in his voice that sounded sad. _He's telling the truth_, Roxas dimly registered.

Riku's head lowered, dejected when Roxas made no immediate reaction. "I know you have no reason to, but can't you at least try to trust me?" he asked in a low voice. "Isn't there _something_ in you that is telling you that I'm on your side?"

Roxas swallowed anxiously, perturbed that Riku had indeed hit the proverbial nail on its head. He wouldn't openly admit it to Riku, but there was a strange and oddly alien tugging in his chest that was begging him to listen to the man; however, a much more forceful pull at his mind was wailing for caution—that there was something wrong with this scenario.

"Why are you doing this?" Roxas asked, voice cool as his blue eyes narrowed.

"What are you talking about?" The man didn't sound hurt—he sounded a little pissed, actually. "Why are we even arguing? I'm trying to _help_ you."

Roxas stepped back, suddenly wary. _Something is definitely not right here_, he thought, watching Riku cautiously. "Why would you want to help me?" Roxas demanded. "What do you want from me?"

Riku, surprisingly, snorted. "I don't want _you_," he said, perhaps a bit more harshly than intended, and Roxas couldn't help but feel indignant. "Quite the contrary, actually. I'm interested in someone else."

The blond blinked. He hadn't been expecting that. "Well," he said loudly, trying unsuccessfully to brush off his resent, "if you want someone else, then why do you need me?" he challenged.

Riku was silent for a moment, and Roxas allowed himself the brief satisfaction of having effectively made the man shut up. Finally, Riku withdrew his hand again and said, "Because the only way to get who I want is through _you_."

A strange sort of numb fear clenched at the blond's chest and he staggered back, eyes wide. "Wh-what are you talking about?" he stammered, the colour draining from his face as the inexplicable need to bolt away grew. "What do you mean 'through m—'?"

* * *

"_You hold half of who he is."_

* * *

**Roxas' eyes snapped open as he jerked awake,** his breath hard and laboured in his chest. As his breathing slowly relaxed, he cast his sapphire gaze about the darkened room. He furrowed his brow in confusion. He was in his own bedroom, lying in a tangle of blankets on his bed. Roxas groaned and fell backwards into his pillows and tiredly wiped some sweat from his brow.

"It was just a dream," he murmured, looking up at the darkened ceiling. "It was just a dream…"

"Just keep telling yourself that," a voice cackled.

Roxas nearly fell off his bed in surprise and sat straight up, finding himself staring into a pair of laughing green eyes. Their owner chuckled softly, "Didn't mean to scare you."

Heat rushed into Roxas' cheeks as he glared at his late-night visitor. His eyes were swiftly becoming more adjusted to the dim lighting filtering in from the lamppost outside his window, and he could just make out the shape and visage of a grinning face and the lanky body seated cross-legged at the foot of his bed. Roxas scowled deeply.

"What the hell are you doing here, Axel?" Roxas growled.

"Oh, so you remember me this time!" Axel joked with a giddy laugh as he reached over and jabbed the blond in the chest. "I'm so_ flattered_!"

There was something so horribly pained in Axel's laugh that Roxas found himself biting his tongue to hold back a shrewd retort. "What are you doing here?" was what he settled for in place of the venomous grousing he wanted to do.

Axel leaned forward until he was nearly nose to nose with the blond. He smiled crookedly. "I wanted to check on you to make sure you were okay," he answered without hesitation.

Roxas stared at the redhead blankly, letting the reply sink in. something about Axel's words had hit him, and he forced the strange churning in his stomach to the back of his mind. "Wh-what are you talking about?" Roxas muttered, ripping his gaze from Axel's hypnotic emerald eyes and missing the wide smirk that appeared on the other's face altogether.

"Well," Axel said, clearly enjoying this, "you did pass out on Riku, back there. And, God, did you pick a shitty time to do that, too. We almost had you outta this screwy place, but then you just _had_ to lose consciousness…" He made a vague waving gesture with his hand.

Roxas blinked. _Wait. What?_ He turned back to the redhead in confusion—this time wisely choosing not to look him in the eye. "That didn't happen," Roxas said firmly. "That was a dream…" He paused and his brows knitted together as he continued to study Axel's face—those tattoos adorning his cheekbones looked like black teardrops…—_Focus!_ Roxas shook his head quickly, ignoring the amused look Axel gave him.

"So, what? You think this is a dream, too?" Axel asked lightly.

The blond nodded furiously. "_Yes_."

Axel laughed a little at this. "Roxas," he crooned, "you're so narrow-minded! What makes you so sure that_ this_ is the dream?"

Roxas' eyes flickered upward to meet Axel's—completely disregarding his prior decision not to. "Obviously this is the dream," he said flatly.

"Why?"

_God, does he never shut up…?_ Roxas' mouth thinned in displeasure. "_Because_," he said forcefully, "nothing like this happens in real life. This is all unrealistic…"

Axel clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "But, Roxas," he said in an annoyingly cheerful voice, "reality is based on one's perception," he began in a condescending tone. "And if one's perception has been distorted, than the reality the individual knows is, in fact, not reality."

Roxas stared dubiously at the redhead. "Is there something you're trying to say?" he asked slowly, feeling slightly sick as he anticipated the answer.

Green eyes flashed sullenly and the smile dropped from Axel's face, replacing itself with one of sombre concern. "Roxas…none of this is real," Axel said softly.

His breath hitched and Roxas forced a bark of laughter. "I know that," he replied, almost nastily. "As I said, this is a _dream_."

Axel gave him a long, thoughtful look. "Have you ever thought that your dreams are better than reality?" he asked after a moment of silent contemplation.

"Of course," Roxas said flatly. "You can control what happens in your dreams. In real life, all sorts of shit can happen to you, and you can't do anything about it."

"Yeah," the redhead agreed. "But only if you're conscious enough to know you're dreaming."

"So?"

"Well…" Axel licked his lips distractedly, his eyes dancing away to glance out the window at the glowing lamp's golden light. He sighed and returned his eyes to Roxas. "Do you think you're dreaming now?" he asked slowly.

Roxas narrowed his eyes. "I know I am," he replied confidently.

Axel snorted. "You'd be surprised," he muttered. "I'd be over the moon if it was this easy."

_Is it not possible for him to make coherent thoughts?_

"What the hell do you want?" Roxas finally snapped, his patience wearing thin as his lips pulled into a small frown.

Axel gave him a long look. "I want you to wake up to reality," he deadpanned. "This is all real. Your life is the dream."

**—'_WAKE UP!!'—_**

A sudden wave of sharp pain shot through Roxas' head and he nearly doubled over, clutching desperately at his head. Axel looked on at Roxas' apparent pain, not moving or looking the slightest bit disturbed. The blond cast Axel an aggravated look, stubbornly gritting his teeth to stifle his cries of pain.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" he hissed, his hands clenching into fists in his hair. "Don't give me your bullshit! Stop lying to me!" he snarled, his eyes flashing cold fire.

Axel stared at him blankly before narrowing his eyes. "I'm not lying to you," he growled, voice gaining a sharp tone. "_You're_ the one that's lying. You're completely fooling yourself, Roxas."

"Shut up!!" Roxas' eyes nearly bugged out of his head as a wave of voices crashed into his skull, deafening him and making him cry out in anguished distress.

—'_Roxas?—Roxas.—Rooooxas?—Roxas…—__**ROXAS**__!!'—_

—_A scalding heat engulfed him, swallowing him whole before swiftly turning to ice and freezing him while a man's slow, empty laughter sounded in the back of his head—_

Roxas let out another gasp of pain as the acute throb in his head intensified and shot through his head, making his vision blur and his body to spasm violently. _Oh God, oh God! Make it stop! Make it __**STOP**_

Axel gave him a steady glare, hands tightening into fists. "Enough of this stupidity, Roxas. It's time to face your mistakes and _wake up_."

"No! Go _away_!!" the blond shrieked, eyes wide as he shot off the bed and sprinted away towards the door. He'd had his hand on the doorknob when a sudden impact from behind knocked the air from his lungs and sent him toppling to the ground, a heavy weight pinning him down and holding his wrists tight over his head.

"_Roxas_," Axel hissed from on top of him, "stop messing around in this made-up world. It's time to _wake up_!!" He barked, grabbing hold Roxas' chin and forcing the sobbing blue eyes to meet his frigid stare. "_Wake up_,_ Roxas_!!" he demanded, nearly screaming in his hot vehemence.

Roxas' watery eyes flew open in horror as he realised his trapped position beneath Axel. His eyes widened in shocked terror at the ferocity of Axel's livid green eyes. "Let go of me, you _bastard_!!" he screeched, thrashing about.

The redhead held him down steady, growling like a feral beast as a sudden projection of dark, blazing ire flared from him and the acrid stench of burning flesh poisoned the air. "WAKE UP!" he roared. He tightened his grip on Roxas' wrists, and the blond could feel a searing heat burning into his skin as he feebly tried to summon his Keyblades in his hysteria—_This is a dream, so why won't they come?!_

"I_ AM_ AWAKE!" Roxas protested in a dry sob as the pain in his head spread to deep within his chest.

—'_Roxas… Roooooxassss…'—_

"NO!" Axel screamed down at him, tensing his hold on Roxas. "YOU'RE NOT AWAKE!"

—'_Geez, Roxas, you're still asleep?'—_

"GET THE _FUCK_ AWAY FROM ME!"

—'_Wakey, wakey!'—_

"NO! I'M NOT LEAVING YOU HERE TO ROT IN THIS DREAM-WORLD!" Axel bellowed, his voice cracking as it rose high in pitch.

—'_God, you're such an asshole. Why'd you have to wake me up? I was having a good dream…'—_

"THIS IS THE DREAM!" Roxas roared, eyes snapping open and meeting Axel's fierce look head-on. "DON'T FUCK WITH ME, JACKASS!" he screamed. "Get the hell away from me!!"

Axel tightened his grip on Roxas' chin, eyes wavering with a flurry of strange things that weren't quite tangible. "_Goddammit_!" Axel growled. "Listen to me! I'm your _friend_! Does that even mean _anything_ to you, or have you forgotten what _that_ means, too?!"

"You're no friend of mine!"

Axel's incensed glare deepened, and the fury that saturated the air spiked and Roxas nearly felt scalded at the touch. "You're not my friend, either," the man hissed. "Not like this, you're not. This isn't the real you—"

"You don't even _know_ me!!"

"—SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET ME TALK, DAMMIT!"

"_Fuck you_!" Roxas yelled.

Axel let out a grunt of frustration before speaking rapidly, voice hoarse. "The real you is being held prisoner by this fucking delusion! Can't you see that?! He's trying to make us enemies!" Axel snarled. "I'm trying to help you, Roxas! It's either you trust me and get out of this fucking illusion and back to reality, or you become a fucking lifeless _doll_ and disappear forever!" Axel's voice cracked, and the inferno raging behind him abruptly vanished as he hung his head. The pain in Roxas' head and chest immediately ceased, as did his previous rage, leaving him with a disturbingly hollow feeling in place of the surging pain and resentment. "Please…" Axel said almost inaudibly. "Please don't disappear…" he choked.

Roxas' eyes widened in silent disbelief. _Is…is he crying?_ A drop of hot liquid on his face confirmed it, and Roxas watched in awe as sparse tears dripped from Axel's face and fell onto his own, mixing with his own arctic tears.

"_Roxas_…" Axel croaked, relinquishing his iron grasp on the boy and instead trailed a trembling hand through Roxas' golden spikes, his emerald eyes wavering and clouded over with something indiscernible. Axel buried his face in the crook of Roxas' neck. "Please," he said softly, pleading the blond, "if you're not going to let me save you, then…just…don't disappear… Don't let him take you away… Don't let him deceive you…"

Roxas furrowed his brow and slowly wiggled his hand out of Axel's grip and tentatively reached to touch Axel's face. A sudden throb deep in his chest stopped him dead in his action and he winced. Axel raised his gaze to look at him and offer the blond a weary grin. Roxas glanced up at the wounded eyes of the other and froze at what he saw, mouth falling open as his eyes widened.

—'_You've gotta be more careful, Roxas.'—_

—'_Shut up.'—_

—'_No, I'm being serious. You can't be so reckless…'—_

—'_Oh, what, and you can?'—_

—'_Heh. Not my point. I can take care of myself.'—_

—'_Are you calling me weak?'—_

—'_Hell no. It's just…don't do anything stupid. I won't always be around to save you.'—_

—'_What the hell does that mean?'—_

—'_I dunno…it's just a weird feeling I got the other day…'—_

Axel blinked at the curious expression of mute shock playing on the blond's face. His brows knitted together. "What's with that expression on your face…?" he asked hoarsely.

Roxas swallowed, feeling that same unfamiliar, yet familiar sense of warmth—a nice feeling, not like that rampant conflagration from before—wash over him like a hot bath, drawing him in and making him feel oddly at home and comfortable. He continued to stare blankly into Axel's eyes, completely lost.

"Roxas?"

Roxas' breath hitched in his chest. "Axel…" he said slowly, his vision blurring over. A sudden surge of frozen black flames burst from the floor beneath Roxas, and he began to sink into the dark fire, the smoky tendrils of cold fire dancing around them.

Untroubled and unfazed by this, Axel brusquely wiped away the tears on Roxas' face and gave the blond a small, reassuring pat on the cheek. "Roxas, I—"

Roxas frowned and covered Axel's mouth to silence him. "Axel," he said again, voice seeming far away and lost. "Just…" he bit his lip as an ache suddenly flared in his chest.

—'_No one would miss me.'—_

—'_That's not true…I would.'—_

"Just what?" Axel asked quietly as Roxas began to rapidly sink into the black blaze.

Roxas swallowed a lump in his throat and looked up pleadingly into the redhead's bright green eyes. "Don't leave me here."

Axel's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something, only to say nothing as the blond disappeared into the fire, leaving Axel sitting on the floor, feeling very alone.

* * *

"_Don't worry, Roxas. No matter what, I'll always look out for you. I've got your back."_

* * *

**The Afterword:** Okay. This took me such a goddamn long time to do, and I don't even like the way it turned out. DX  
As if it wasn't bad enough with the "fight scenes," I feel like I totally made the end of the chapter retarded with Axel and Roxas' semi-violent/shrieky encounter…I mean…GAWD. D:  
I guess I was trying to find a source of, dare I say, emotion, within them. I wanted to express their frustration and desperation on the matter, the desperation more on Axel's part, but it turned out really stupid… T-T Ahhh…  
Anyways, sorry about the ridiculous wait, guys. I'll get cracking on the next chapter after midterms. (Meaning sometime after the 23rd of January.)

BTW, totally random, but how many other people are getting totally pissed with how been fucking around with your chapters? I upload something, and the next thing I know, a million typos spontaneously appear. God damn it, I take a lot of time to read over my work, and it's like I have to redo the process once I put something through their site. DX

So! Tell me your thoughts and comments, eh? I need all the feedback I can get! :P


	4. xi : the end of the world

**Summary:** (slight AU) Dreams always result in an awakening, and twilight always fades. What if Roxas had left Twilight Town with Axel? (AkuRoku, Riku/Sora, implied Zemyx)**  
Disclaimer:** No, but it would be a really nice birthday gift…**  
Rant:** OMG, I'm so sorry! D8 I got distracted by a million bazillion different things, and I sort of lost inspiration… DX I'm really sorry!  
:X There's lots of Axel in this chapter… D: And skfjsfwherowu, he's difficult to write—almost as hard as Riku! XD Like, I'm only used to my AU, "_It's Like Hell_" version. If this Axel sucks hardcore, I'm really sorry. :0

On a side note, I hope those of you in the U.S. enjoyed your Fourth of July! :D And, going back to earlier in the week, to my Canadian brethren, Happy (waay belated) Canada Day!

* * *

**Started:** June 18, 2008.**  
Completed:** July 5, 2008.

* * *

**Twilight  
**_xi : __end of the world  
_

* * *

—**the wind howled painfully in his ears, his** hair whipping against his face as he stared into the centre of the great void. Flashing orange eyes were wide with insanity. _"So, you have come this far and still you understand nothing. Every—"_

_"—world among the stars has a Keyhole. And each one leads to the heart—"_

—less limbs were hard to manoeuvre, he realised after a few experimental steps, stumbling and wobbling about like toddler. A hot wave of panic flooded through him as he anxiously wondered how he'd ever find the others while trapped in this form. It wasn't like they'd recognise him like this—they'd probably attack him. Nevertheless, he scuttled off to the Entrance Hall. He had to hurry. Kai—

—was propped up against the ship's mast, her lilac eyes lidded and unfocused. The Boy cried out her name, taking a few steps forward, disbelief and horror etched into his soft features. The Other Boy's lips merely thinned in response. _"That's right,"_ he said, voice painfully hard, _"While you were off goofing around, I finally found—"_

_"_—_you. So, as long as we stick together, it'll work out okay. Ya just gotta believe in yourself, that's all."_ The Dog's words were encouraging, but strangely foreign to the Boy. He had gone through his life placing his faith in the hands of his friends. Of Ri—

—had to be around here, somewhere… His boat was here, right? Both of theirs. Where were they?! The Boy sprinted across the dock, sliding to an abrupt halt when bulbous, glowing yellow eyes rose from the ground and fixed him with blank stares. He staggered back, sweat dripping down the back of his neck as he felt fear well up inside of him. There was nowhere to run! These strange monsters stood in between his friends and the—

_"—see it, too. Along with any other worlds out there!"_ he excitedly told the Girl. _"I wanna see 'em—"_

_"—All fates are inevitable,"_ the Old Man hissed in his ear, forcefully dragging him too close for comfort. A look of inherent disgust spread across his face as he shoved the Old Man away from him. _"Don't feed me any of that crap,"_ he growled, balling his hands into fists. _"You don't know anything about him! He won't give in, and neither will I."_ The Old Man chuckled in his aggravatingly condescending way and leered. _"I beg to differ, foolish boy."_ He made a vague gesture to his chest. _"Every light must fade,"_ he murmured, eyes misting over slightly. _"And every heart must return to the darkness whence it came."_ The Old Man exhaled slowly, his smouldering eyes roving back over to the younger. When he spoke again, his voice was heavy with both contempt and pity. _"You understand so little."_

* * *

"_One who knows nothing can understand nothing."_

* * *

**It was, perhaps, rather pathetic that Roxas** had grown accustomed to sleeping only five or six hours—seven hours, on merciful nights—before being rudely awakened by his broken dreams. He was greatly bristled by all this, as it seemed to be affecting his behaviour throughout the day. He was constantly fatigued and listless. And, even more pathetic, Hayner, Pence, and Olette had become used to Roxas' new tendency to pass out in the middle of unlikely moments, and had taken it completely in stride—something that further served to drive the blond insane.

He hadn't had the luxury of a full night of rest since that one night… That one night where his dreams took an unorthodox turn and decided to include _him_ in the insane fairytale his mind had concocted. Just remembering it made him irritated. Hadn't it already been enough to be plagued by such an epic every night? Now _he_ was involved, too?—

He would always stop his train of thought right there and blink. He wasn't _really_ involved. This was just a series of highly vivid and detailed dreams. It wasn't like any of this stuff was really happening, never mind how _goddamn real_ it all felt.

Roxas briefly entertained the idea of writing all these dreams down—interestingly enough, Roxas had not forgotten any of these, despite his tendency to never remember his dreams—and creating some sort of fiction novel. He had later dismissed the idea with a snort, figuring that the only thing that could possibly come from such a publication would be immediate admittance to the local mental hospital. (_Wouldn't Seifer get a kick out of that?_ he thought snidely.)

Still, he reflected, "meeting" Sora—the Boy—had been interesting. He frowned slightly as he remembered the bright blue eyes and the cheery grin. He hadn't expected Sora to be around his age, though. Hadn't he always been much younger? He was always a few years younger in the dreams. _And more than a few inches shorter, too,_ he thought to himself with a laugh. The poor boy desperately needed clothes that fit. He had looked rather ridiculous.

He idly wondered why he had shown up in that dream with Sora… And who was Naminé? And, even more intriguing, why had Riku and Axel shown up in the dream?

_Wait_, Roxas reminded himself, _I'd already been in a dream with those two before._ He scratched his head and looked tiredly out his window, watching the sun rise and warm the sky. (The only perk to waking up at four AM every morning.)

This rose an interesting point. Riku and Axel's dream had been completely disjointed from the 'Sora Saga,' as he liked to call it. In fact, it had blended in so well with his day that it was impossible for him to discern exactly when his day had ended and when the dream began.

Roxas chanced a sideways glance at his wrist. _And that burn…_

That burn had most certainly been there in the morning. _That_ had been real. Roxas nibbled on his lower lip, brows furrowing nervously. _Could that whole night have been real…?_ He quickly shook his head. That was stupid. It was thoughts like that that were going to be the end of him.

He sighed and fell backwards among his pillows and blankets, staring up at the blank ceiling.

In a way, he blamed all of his problems on that one night. It seemed like all of these peculiar occurrences had started taking place like rapid fire after his imagined encounter with the two men cloaked in darkness. He scowled slightly. Seeing them had reawakened all his cynicism about Twilight Town, making all his suspicions return with a vengeance.

_Why am I even thinking about that?_ Roxas' frown deepened as he rolled over on his side, his eyes flickering out the window, catching the morning rays. _Really,_ he thought with a sigh,_ I shouldn't be dwelling this much on a few stupid dreams_.

_**A few?**_ that irritating little voice sneered. _**You've been dreaming this insanity for at least a month. I'd hardly call that 'a few.'**_

Roxas shut his eyes and groaned, shifting his position so he lay on his stomach, his face smothered in the pillow. _Maybe if I stay here long enough, I'll suffocate and lose consciousness_. He wondered if he could escape his dreams this way.

A soft snort resounded from the foot of the bed. "Roxas, if you keep that up, you really will kill yourself," a familiar voice chided as a hand stretched over Roxas' back and prodded him lightly in the back of his head.

"What the hell do you want, Axel?" Roxas muttered, strangely calm for a person that was consciously—_more like __**un**__consciously_—talking to a figment of his imagination.

"I want you to stop trying to off yourself like this," Axel replied, a small smirk on his lips as he retracted his hand. "Trust me, Roxas, there are a lot of people who'd be pissed at you if you managed to kill yourself."

"Like who?" Roxas asked, his voice slightly muffled by the pillow. He wasn't even sure why he was humouring his imagination. Talking to the hallucinations was probably just going to encourage these delusions… Geez…

"Well," Axel tapped his chin in thought. "I'd be kinda annoyed, for one. And Riku would be _majorly_ pissed… Oh, and all those guys back in the Castle would definitely be furious to find that you took away their right to off you." He laughed.

Roxas propped himself up on his elbows and turned his head to glare at the redhead over his shoulder. "You make a very convincing argument," he told him sarcastically.

Axel just laughed and leaned against the window pane. "I try," he said with a cheeky grin.

The blond let out a noncommittal 'hn' and raised his eyebrows. "What are you doing here, anyway?" he asked, a tiny bit of curiosity leaking into his voice. He frowned slightly. "Am I dreaming again?" he asked himself out loud. He sighed wearily and fell back onto his pillow. "I don't even remember waking up."

Axel snorted. "There's something that you've actually got right," he remarked with a touch of bitterness. He then plastered a grin on his face and cheerfully slapped Roxas' leg through his sheets. "C'mon, Roxas. I told you earlier, we gotta get you outta here…that guy is already on the lookout for me, and—"

Roxas spun around and smacked Axel's hand away from him, cheeks flushed. "Don't touch me," he muttered beneath his breath, feverishly choosing to ignore the look of amusement the redhead cast him. He averted his gaze with a huff. "What guy?" he asked jerkily, making sure his flashing blue eyes didn't meet the smouldering emerald of Axel's.

"What do you mean, 'what g—'—_oh_." Axel nodded, looking slightly apologetic. "I keep on forgetting that you don't remember," he said, almost sheepishly, and Roxas couldn't help but chance a peek at him through the corner of his eyes. Something about the man's face looked utterly defeated, but he quickly masked that over with a carefully blank expression and a hapless sort of shrug.

Roxas' eyes, against his will, roved back onto Axel. "What don't I remember?" he asked, a hand unconsciously snaking up to clutch at the cloth of his t-shirt, just over his heart. Axel's eyes followed his movement before glancing back up at the blond's face. A small, sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"_Everything_," he whispered emphatically. He leaned forward, his eyes locked with Roxas'. "You've forgotten everything that's important," he told the boy, eyes hard. "Everything that's ever mattered to you, you've forgotten." He leaned forward even further, almost nose to nose with Roxas.

Roxas swallowed thickly, wishing desperately that he could tear himself away from the hypnotic gaze. "Why?" he asked breathily, shrinking back slightly.

"Che, I wish I knew," Axel muttered in response, his eyes wide and unblinking. "It really must be something, if it's caused you to forget the rest of the guys…the Nobodies…" He leaned in even further, still. His forehead was now lightly touching Roxas', and his skin was strangely hot, dancing like flames across Roxas' flesh. His emerald eyes flashed once. "…to forget _me_."

Blue eyes widened dramatically and a searing pain shot through Roxas' skull. He jerked away from Axel, hands clasped to his head as he let out a cry of agony.

—_He stalked down the dark, puddle-riddled streets of The World That Never Was, head held high and sapphire eyes clear and determined. He knew, deep inside himself, that if he didn't leave now, he never would. In terms of practicality, this was an incredibly stupid move. Perhaps even stupider than the one time he'd offered to help Larxene with her target practice. (He couldn't have known better. He'd still been a greenhorn back then, desperate to please.)_

_In fact, when he took into account all the future grief he was most undoubtedly going to receive as a price for his actions, he was almost staggered by his poor odds. There was no logical way he could take on the entire Organisation XIII, even with a good half of them dead._

_(How on earth had that happened, anyway? He knew that a number of them hadn't gotten along, but to have gone off and murdered each other in such a short time span…? It just seemed fishy. Maybe there had been some sort of a coup?_

_Whatever the case, it sort of pissed him off that none of the remaining higher ups had been very keen on sharing the information. Neither had Axel, come to think about it. He'd been acting kinda strange ever since he returned from that special assignment. Something big must've happened to him… Axel kept on looking at him funny and saying the weirdest, mushiest things. It was unnerving.)_

_He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he walked right past the slouching form of Axel without even noticing. Or rather, he noticed the redhead, but chose to give off the impression that he hadn't. He simply continued walking forward, eyes never deviating to the man._

_Finally__, Axel spoke, his voice deceptively calm, yet obviously strained, "Your mind's made up?"_

_He halted his movement, eyes unwavering. He clenched his fists in resolution. "Why did the Keyblade choose me?" he wondered aloud, more to himself than to Axel. "I have to know."_

_Axel's posture melted from one of practiced indifference to one of fury threaded with grief, his shoulders hunching as his eyes flashed and narrowed in aggravated disbelief. "You can't turn on the Organisation!" Axel shouted, sparks crackling from his hands as his unruly red hair stood even further on end, hints of flames and ash flickering around his form. "You get on their bad side and they'll destroy you!" His voice hitched slightly and he balled his hands into fists, gritting his teeth._

_His heart skipped a beat. _'They'll destroy you'? _He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. _So there _had _been some sort of coup…_ He took another breath to calm himself. He wasn't very surprised, to be honest. He opened his eyes, still refusing to look at Axel. _I'll deal with that when the time comes_, he decided. He had been expecting them to come after him at some point, anyway. The Superior had always seemed unusually interested in him—much more than he had with most of the others, at least. _Besides_, he thought, a rather dark look passing over his face, "No one would miss me," he muttered just barely stopping himself from glancing back at Axel, neither realising nor caring that he had spoken. He frowned inwardly, oddly saddened—_How? Why?_—by that understanding._

_"That's not true…" he heard Axel grind out, __voice trailing away into oblivion, and he could just imagine the redhead standing there, feet wide apart, sagging slightly in defeat. He furrows his brows, glaring slightly at the dark, bleak world before him. Then, taking one last breath of cold air, stormed off into the darkness. As he left Axel behind, he could almost swear that he heard him murmur two words beneath his breath: "…I would."_

_He gritted his teeth and __forced all hopeful and grossly disillusioned thoughts to the back of his head. His mind was just playing cruel tricks on him.—_

Roxas gingerly touched a hand to his forehead as his eyes cracked open, the room spinning and hazy around him. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. "Wh…what…?"

"About time you got up!" Axel's voice scoffed from near Roxas' desk. The blond nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of his voice.

"Y-you!" Roxas stammered, quickly sitting up and garnering himself a shot of vertigo in the process. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Axel tilted his head to the side, looking mildly amused. "I was waiting for you to wake up, o' course!" He leaned on the table and exaggeratedly rolled his eyes. "I gotta tell you, Roxas, you've really gotta stop blacking out on us like that. It's really inconvenient. I mean, what're you gonna do if you suddenly drop unconscious in the middle of a battle, huh? It's not like the Heartless really have the etiquette to patiently wait for you to come to. They'll kill you." Axel distractedly drummed his fingers on the desk, his green eyes rising to squint at the ceiling. "It's weird," he continued, "I don't think you ever had a problem with fainting spells, either." His fine eyebrows knitted together in thought. "Maybe this has something to do with the chain…?" he mused. His eyes drifted back over to Roxas, and the blond couldn't help but feel that he was being scrutinised.

"Stop looking at me like that," Roxas muttered, his face colouring a light shade of purple. _Why the hell is he here? Am I still dreaming? And why is freaking looking at me like _that_? He looks like he wants to eat me or something…_

A crooked grin spread across Axel's face and his eyes darkened with something Roxas couldn't quite identify. "You always used to give me that look," Axel mumbled, his eyes sliding shut nostalgically. The crooked grin melted away into what appeared to be a small, honestly shy smile. Roxas couldn't help but think that it all looked very foreign on the redhead's face. Yet, strangely enough, the smile didn't look any less sincere or pleasant. Coupled with the glowing emerald eyes that just brimmed of memory and hunger, Axel's face looked to be a bizarre blend of both goodwill and a sort of barely concealed greed. Roxas' stomach did a strange twist. _What's with that look on his face?_

"…what do you want?" Roxas asked slowly, his mouth feeling like cotton.

Axel's eyes widened a fraction, and his face settled back into a coy expression more befitting of him. "_Everything_," he said emphatically, "and _nothing_."

Roxas frowned. "I don't understand."

"We're never meant to," Axel said genially. "And those who attempt to understand are messed up." His eyes flickered out the window, catching the light of the coming dawn. He narrowed his eyes slightly before allowing them to return to the blond. "Roxas, I'm gonna need you to trust me—"

"Why the hell would I do that?" Roxas interrupted, his voice rising in pitch as his shoulders tensed.

The redhead scratched his chin ruefully, his eyes unmoving. "Who else are you gonna trust?" he asked plainly. "Everyone else here is delusional, and don't deny it."

_That's what he said the first time_, Roxas thought to himself with an inward sigh. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously up at Axel. "I'm not denying it," he said slowly, "but there's still no reason to trust you. You're just a dream."

"Didn't we already have this talk about how reality is based on perception?" Axel demanded impatiently. "Look, I don't have time for this nonsense, Roxas. I'm being completely serious, here. You have _got_ to trust me. Your goddamn life is hanging by a thread, and—"

"Wait," Roxas' eyes were wide. "_What_?"

"You heard me," Axel said grimly, taking a few steps forward and crouching in front of Roxas so they were eye-level. "Do you enjoy life?"

"I—"

"Well, if you do, I suggest you start listening to me and stop being so _judgmental_. It's really hindering all progress, you know." Axel let out a groan. "We could've had you out, but you had to go flipping out on Riku, and then you _passed out_…"

"He told me himself that I had no reason to trust him!" Roxas said shrilly.

"And you shouldn't," Axel shot back. "Generally speaking, I don't trust him, either. But he's got his own agenda to fulfil, and, unlike some people around here, his does _not_ include the termination of your _life_, so—"

"_What_?! Someone's trying to _kill_ me?!" Roxas' eyes boggled out of his head as the colour left his face. _Why?! It's not like I'm that bad, why would anyone want me dead? Oh, my God, who could it be… Seifer?!_

Axel continued on, ignoring Roxas' outburst. "—he seems like an obvious person to listen to. Sure, he's a little misguided, but who isn't? He's a good kid at heart, and he's not gonna—"

Roxas grabbed Axel by the neck of his coat and forced the redhead to look at him, his blue eyes wide and fearful. Axel silenced himself. Roxas took a shaky breath before he spoke. "Are you saying that someone is trying to kill me?" he asked softly, his voice wavering.

Axel gave him a long look. Finally, he replied, "_Yes_."

Roxas released the redhead and leaned backward against the windowpane, his breaths coming in cold, shallow bursts. "Who?" he asked hoarsely.

"Does it really matter?" Axel asked dryly. "The fact that _anyone_ would try to kill you is a pretty big deal, and besides, if I told you, you'd never believe me."

"_Who_?"

Axel frowned slightly. "A number of people, actually," he replied evenly, watching Roxas pale even further. "I'm probably on all of their hit lists by now, too, for being here…" He distractedly ran a hand through his spiky hair.

_He's gonna get in trouble for trying to help me?_ Roxas felt sick at the thought. "Who are they?" he asked again, voice subdued.

Axel's eyes softened. "People you don't remember."

_Of course_, Roxas thought bitterly. "When will they get here?"

"They're already on their way."

Roxas' heart jumped into his mouth. "_What_?"

"In fact," Axel went on, "I was actually sent by some of them."

_WHAT?!_ Roxas shoved the redhead away from him and shot off the bed and to the door, getting ready to run away at a second's notice. "You're working for _them_?!" he cried out, angry and afraid, blood thundering in his ears. _STOP freaking out!_ the rational part of his mind shouted at him. _Remember, this is just a _dream_!_

"Hang on a sec," Axel frowned. "Yes, I work for them, but so _do you_." He paused and considered his words. "Well, you _did_, but then you ditched," he added, his voice sour.

Roxas was about to throw open the door and break away from this insanity when a ghostly word unveiled itself in his mind drowning out his rational mind's exclamations of lies and falsification. _The Organisation!_ He hesitated, then stopped and turned to face Axel, his face unreadable. "Who are you?" he asked quietly.

Axel gave a heavy sigh. "We've already been through this, Roxas—"

"No," Roxas broke in, "who…are _you_?"

Axel raised an eyebrow quizzically. "You're not making much sense, kid." But there was something sparkling in his eyes as he said this. He grinned faintly. "Those are the same sorts of screwy questions you used to always spout off," he told the blond. "Always the philosophical one. You probably could've warped the Superior's mind—not that it wasn't warped already…" his voice trailed away, his eyes drifting back over to Roxas. He slowly approached Roxas, carefully crossing the room with his hands spread in front of him, showing that he was not a threat. Gently, he laid his hands on Roxas' shoulders. Roxas fought to ignore the warmth that shot through his skin.

"I am your friend, Roxas. Do you know what that means? It means that I will do anything in my power to make sure you are safe. I will go to the ends of the universe to see it through that you are all right." His grip tightened. "I am someone that you can trust to do what's in your best interest, no matter what."

A strange thrumming had started dancing through Roxas' head, making him feel unfocused and slightly dizzy. "Anything to make sure I'm safe?" he wondered.

The grip tightened even further. "_Yes_," Axel whispered harshly. "Absolutely anything."

"Really?" Roxas narrowed his eyes and stared pensively up at the man. "Even turn your back on the Organisation?"

Axel's eyes widened. "You remember the Organisation?" he whispered, his voice tremulous and clearly surprised.

Blue eyes faltered and Roxas truthfully shook his head. "Not really," he mumbled, averting his gaze to the floor. "I've been thinking all this weird stuff…just bits and pieces."

Hope was evident in Axel's voice when he asked, in a timid and anxious voice, "Do you remember me now?"

Roxas opened his mouth to reply, then stopped and thought about it. He remembered ticklish fires, but he had already told Axel about that during their first encounter. _Maybe that wasn't even the first time we met_, he thought blandly. _Maybe this insanity is really true. It wouldn't be the strangest thing to happen here, for one thing._ He found himself drifting away in his thoughts. _What if this is real? What will happen to me?_

The blank expression that had plastered itself on Roxas' face must have disconcerted Axel, because his own face fell and he loosened his grip on the blond, letting his hands fall slack to his sides. "You know what?" Axel muttered, more to himself than Roxas, "It's all right if you don't remember. The most important thing is to get you out—"

"You tried to stop me."

Axel froze.

Roxas nibbled on his lower lip and gave the redhead a sideways look. "I…" He lowered his eyes. "I told you I don't remember much, and what I do remember is kinda hazy, but I do remember leaving somewhere…" He furrowed his brow as he strained his memory. "I was leaving…and you were there, and you told me not to go…" His voice died away and he chanced a glance up at Axel, nearly staggering back in shock at the look on his face. "Are you all right?" Roxas asked, alarmed.

Axel's face was pulled into another strange contradiction, his eyes wide and glassy and his lips pressed tightly together. It was the peculiar sort of expression one wore when stifling tears. "I…I'll be fine," he said quietly, sounding choked.

Roxas shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling painfully awkward with the situation. "So, um," he stammered, feeling heat gather in his cheeks, "what's going to happen now?"

A beat passed and Axel's eyes hardened, his face setting back into a look of determination that better befit him. "We're gonna get you out of here."

"When?"

A glove-covered hand mussed Roxas' blond spikes. "Ever since our last attempt, that guy's been pulling all the precautions against Naminé and me. So, we'll have to wait. I'll come for you at the last possible second," Axel replied, his eyes watching the sun climb higher into the Twilight Town sky. "Just before all hell breaks loose, I'll come pick you up." He turned back to face Roxas and offered a rueful half-smile. "See you at the end of the world."

* * *

_Restoration at 79 percent._

* * *

**It was only when Roxas opened his eyes**—not without a sense of déjà vu—to see the dawn twilight shimmering in his window that he began to wonder exactly how much time had passed since his most recent dream—_or was that real?_—with the green-eyed enigma. One thing that had greatly irritated Roxas with the coming of these strange dreams was his newfound apparent lack of time perception. It seemed almost like he had lost countless hours—days, even!—to sleep, and, quite honestly, it was starting to distress him.

He had fretfully asked Hayner, Pence, and Olette what he had been missing during his frequent bouts of hypersomnia, but the trinity had replied, not without raised eyebrows, that he had been suffering no such sleeping disorders and that he had simply been the same, plain old Roxas. (Olette had commented that he had been daydreaming more often than usual, but Hayner had brushed that off as Roxas waking up to the fact that summer vacation was almost over and his apparent blankness had been his reaction of horror to the impending school year.)

In a somewhat tragically ironic way, these responses were no different than that which Roxas had envisioned. After all, experience showed that all denizens of Twilight Town replied to these sorts of questions with vague answers, dancing around the questions and never being entirely helpful.

_What was I thinking, asking these guys?_ Roxas wondered crabbily as he reluctantly accepted the sea salt ice cream from Olette and gave it a mechanic lick. _Since when did they ever express any knowledge on the insanity of this place?_

"So, I was thinking we could maybe go to Sunset Hill or something," Olette was saying, her feet swung back and forth as she gazed down the station tower at the fairly nonexistent hustle and bustle of the town below. "It's not that late yet, and the view there is always pretty neat."

Hayner shook his head. "Nah, that's boring," he objected. He pointed to the distant horizon with his popsicle. "I still say we should aim for the beach—and this time we'll actually get there." The dig at Roxas was unintentional and unnoticed by all parties with the exception of Roxas himself.

Roxas winced as the memory of his freak accident resurfaced. _It was Riku's fault!_ he thought furiously, annoyed that there was no way he could explain that to his friends without seeming either totally lame or completely bonkers.

Pence, who seemed to have noticed Roxas' plight, was quick to jump in, "Yeah, we can get the 'rents to chip in some cash for the trip," he suggested with a wide grin. "No sweat off our backs."

"Damn straight," Hayner agreed with an enthusiastic nod. "And my brother still owes me 500 munny for all that soda pop I bought him." He punctuated this statement with a loud slurp of his ice cream. He glanced over at Roxas and gave his friend an ice cream-lined smile. "How 'bout it, Roxas?"

Roxas smiled sheepishly down at his hands, which had ice cream steadily dripping down them. "Sounds good to me."

"Then it's settled," Olette announced. "Today is the day we crash the beach."

Just then, Pence clapped a hand to his forehead and groaned. "Wait, no go, guys. I can't go today. I promised my mom I'd be home early to help with—"

"Pence!" Hayner complained, visibly sagging. "You're killing me, man!"

"I'm sorry!" Pence exclaimed, holding his hands up.

"You suck!"

Roxas smiled a little at his squabbling friends. "Hey, c'mon, Hayner, don't beat him up over it—it's his mom, for goodness sake. Cut the guy some slack, he's just being a good son. Besides, we can just go to the beach tomorrow after we win the Struggle tournament."

Smiles spread across the faces of his friends as he said this. "It's a promise," Olette breathed, her eyes lighting up.

"Yeah, yeah," Hayner said easily, brushing off their words prodding Pence sharply in the side with his clean popsicle stick. "You're such a goodie two-shoes!" he snickered as the brunet's arms flailed in the air.

Olette's green eyes widened as she quickly tried to calm the boys. "Guys, cut it out," she ordered in her most stern voice. "Save it for when we're on the ground—someone could get hurt up here…"

Hayner immediately ceased his antics, and Pence looked a little pale at the suggestion, clutching at his heart. Roxas peered down at the ground. "That'd be one heck of a fall," he commented, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck prickle at the thought.

"No joke," Hayner agreed, his voice a little higher than usual. His honey-coloured eyes looked unusually large on his face. "Dude, there's no way someone could survive a fall like _that_."

"Let's not even talk about it," Pence muttered, looking rather nauseous as he tore his eyes away from what must have been imaginary carnage down on the golden cobblestones below.

A loud snort erupted from Olette. "See, this is why you guys would be totally helpless without me," she said with a magnanimous sniff. "Between the three of you, Roxas is the only one with any sense."

"Gee, thanks," Hayner said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Just the same," he suddenly piped up, "Roxas would also be the most likely to go toppling off the tower."

Pence closed his eyes and wrinkled his nose. "That's a horrible thing to say," he mumbled. "Can we _please_ change the subject?" he whined.

"That's not true!" Olette argued. "You'd definitely be doing something stupid up here and lose your balance and—"

Hayner scoffed, "Yeah, right. Like I'd be _that_ clumsy. It would definitely be Roxas. You know it's true!" He turned to Roxas—_Go figure._—for support. "C'mon, Roxas, don't deny it!"

Roxas, being, as Olette pointed out, the most sensible, was one to know his own limitations and weaknesses. And, from prior experience, staying awake for extended periods of time was something he wasn't known for doing—as of recently, anyway. So, he nodded in weary agreement. "Yeah," he said vaguely, "I'd probably stare at the sun for too long and get dizzy and fall right off the station tower…"

Hayner let out a whoop of victory and cheered. "Ha!" he jeered at Olette, "Even _he_ agrees! I win."

"Oh, _please_…" Olette rolled her emerald eyes. "Hey, Roxas," she turned to her left so she could face the blond properly. "Don't listen to that idiot," she said kindly. "You're no more likely to fall off the tower than any of us. You don't have any reason to be so self-deprecating. Okay?" she said earnestly, her eyes shining reassuringly.

"Uh, sure…" Roxas mumbled, his vision blurring slightly around the edges. _Those damn eyes are so close in colour to Axel's_… Roxas felt something twist inside himself as he locked eyes with Olette. _Look away! Look away!_ he screamed in his head. _Look away or you'll get lost!_

"Roxas?" Olette's voice was strangely fuzzy, almost floating through the heavy air and static. "Are you okay? Your ice cream is melting…"

Roxas didn't respond, his eyes slowly slid shut, and all he could see was _green_, _green_, _green_… _Green_ all over the place. It was everywhere—all over him, inside him… It was so heavy! He was drowning in it. He couldn't breathe. _What the—?!_ He was—

And suddenly the ground disappeared beneath him and he was falling through nothing, and he could distantly hear the voices of people screaming his name.

"Hey, Roxas, what's with that look on your face?"

And then, Roxas wasn't falling anymore. His eyes were clenched shut and his face was tight in a grimace, his entire body stiff from his fall. A hand squeezed his knee, and he flinched in response, his eyes snapping open to reveal Twilight Town just before dusk was to fall upon it. He stared over at the skyline in surprise, realising after a moment that he was back on the station tower, ice cream still in hand and still melting.

"Didn't I…?" Roxas cast his eyes down to his hands, shocked. "Didn't I just fall off the tower…? How am I back up here?" He turned to his right to regard Olette and his other friends, but found them to be missing. In their place sat a very amused Axel, casually watching him, a sea salt ice cream melting down his fingers a little too quickly to be normal. Roxas fought the urge to look into Axel's laughing emerald eyes and instead settled for choking out, "What are you doing here?"

Axel put on an expression of mock hurt. "Oh, Roxas, so cruel," he cooed. "I can tell when I'm not wanted—"

"_No_, _wait_!!" Roxas shouted automatically, a hand shooting out to grab the loose end of Axel's coat sleeve.

Axel raised an eyebrow at him, a neutral expression settling on his face. "Something wrong, Roxas?" he asked blandly.

The blond jerked his hand back, face flushing in embarrassment. _What the hell was I thinking?_ he mentally berated himself, cursing his impulsive action and total lack of tact. "Uh, no," he mumbled, settling for sticking the ice cream into his mouth. _Open mouth, insert foot._

Axel looked unconcerned. "Oh, good," he said pleasantly. He idly switched the hand his popsicle was in and licked the melted treat off his long, gloved fingers. Roxas quickly turned away, mortified at the rapidly collecting heat in his cheeks. With his back toward the redhead, Roxas completely missed the look of wicked delight that briefly passed over Axel's face.

"Um," Roxas began as soon as he regained an acceptable level of composure. He turned back to face Axel, keeping his eyes a safe distance away from those of the older man. "How did I get here?" he asked quietly, not trusting his voice. "I mean…I was just here and…I think I _fell_, and…how did _you_ get here?" he scrunched up his nose in thought. "I was here with Hayner and Pence and Olette—I could hear them screaming when I fell…" Axel shifted his position, and from the corner of his eyes, Roxas could see that the redhead had brought a folded leg up onto the ledge, lazily propping an arm over his knee. "And," Roxas continued, his mouth oddly dry, "now I'm back here." He raised his empty hand and lightly pressed it to his chest, just over his heart. "How did that happen?" he wondered. "That was definitely real, and so is this…right?" he chanced a glance over at Axel. "They were both real."

Axel shrugged, looking fairly uninterested. "It's all a matter of perspective," he told the blond. "You'll believe what you want to believe." A small, wily grin tugged at his lips. "And if you're starting to think that this—" he made a vague gesture to the surrounding area "—these meetings you have with me are real, then that means we're finally getting somewhere."

Roxas pursed his lips in thought. "Well," he said slowly, pausing to lick at a travelling droplet of ice cream, "I guess…" He frowned, not sure how to phrase exactly what he felt. "There's a big part of me that's saying that this is stupid—that it's impossible. But," he stopped, only continuing when Axel nodded, urging him on. "But there's something inside me that's telling me to just listen." He shrugged and offered the redhead an awkward smile. "It's just a gut feeling, I guess. And it's not like I'm gonna lose anything from this, right? If it's just a dream, well, I guess that'll make for one hell of a story idea, right?" He chuckled softly.

"And if it's real?" Axel persisted, eyes probing. "What if, hypothetically, everything I'm telling you is real, and your reality is the real dream? What if you really do need to leave because someone is out to kill you? What if you play such a huge part in the lives of other people that your erasure could make all the difference in the world? What if you really are the key to unlocking destiny? What would you do?"

Roxas raised an eyebrow, an uneasy smile on his face. "I thought this was all supposed to be hypothetical," he muttered, nibbling on his ice cream and wincing at the bite of cold that shot through his gums and to his head.

Axel let out a bark of laughter. "Well," he said, his voice deceptively bright, "What if, hypothetically, this isn't as hypothetical as you'd like to think?"

The question was innocuous, but left a strange aftertaste in Roxas' mouth, something that couldn't be smothered by the soothing flavour of the ice cream. He took a deep breath to steady himself before he turned to look Axel in the eyes, and finally replied, "Then you better start explaining this in terms that I can understand."

* * *

_Restoration at 8__9 percent._

* * *

**In spite of all the illogical happenings** that had recently been taking place in Roxas' life, nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Seifer getting trounced by Vivi in the Struggle tournament. (_Vivi, of all people?! Are you shitting me?!_) To his own credit, Seifer looked fairly shocked himself. It was only when the gruff blond stormed past Roxas, uttering that his opponent hadn't been Vivi, that Roxas began to suspect that things were further veiled in deceit.

In response to this new knowledge, Roxas let out a very stupefied "Huh?"

Seifer sneered and continued on his way, Rai and Fuu following him silently. "Thrash 'im," he snarled, leaving the Sandlot without a second's hesitation.

It was only then that it finally hit Roxas that he had made it to the semi-finals. The realisation thudded dully in his head. _I only need to defeat Vivi, then I get a shot at Setzer._ He frowned to himself as he headed up to the stage. _But how could Vivi have defeated Seifer…? That's totally unheard of…_

He nodded listlessly as he accepted the Struggle bat and the producer's feeble request for a clean match. He chanced a sideways glance at Vivi and felt something clench awkwardly inside himself at the dark giggle that erupted from beneath his small opponent's hat.

Shaking off his anxiety, Roxas tightened his hold on the Struggle bat, the grooved, rubber grip feeling sticky and uncomfortable in his hands. Everything about the Struggle bat was uncomfortable, Roxas decided. Its weight—or lack thereof—was situated to heavily at the tip and it was entirely too short for his liking. And the heavy padding—to prevent severe injuries and lawsuits—that lined the actual bat interfered with his movement. It increased wind resistance and killed his agility in the most aggravating way possible.

_If only_, Roxas thought, letting his mind wander as he spread his feet, warily watching Vivi settle into his own stance. _If only this was more like the Keyblade. Then it'd be easier to handle_.

"And now," the announcer exclaimed over the loudspeaker, "the match you've all been waiting for: Roxas versus Vivi!"

Hayner, Pence, and Olette cheered along with the crowd, but all of their voices were drowned out by the piercing screech of the whistle. And all at once, the Struggle began.

Roxas shot forward, Struggle bat held low and streamline against his body. _Vivi defeated Seifer because he was quick_, Roxas thought, lashing out with his bat and dislodging an orb from Vivi's vest, sending it flying to the ground. _Seifer had an opening in which he paused in his attack. Vivi's got a lot of speed and used that opportunity to attack_. He whacked at Vivi again, cleanly removing another three orbs. _If I keep on him and don't stop, I can remove all his orbs and prevent him from attacking. And if I keep this up to the end of the time limit, I should be fine_.

This in mind, Roxas unleashed a furious assault, hardly pausing in his attack and keeping one eye on the clock. It was right before the clock was due to ring—0.13 seconds, to be specific—that everything stopped.

Roxas' eyes grew large and he staggered back, adrenalin and fear pounding in his head. All the people were stiff and unmoving, their faces pulled into wide-eyed expressions of excitement and gusto, completely frozen mid-cheer. His gaze returned to Vivi, also unmoving, feeling that horrible clenching sense return.

Then, in a sizzling flicker of dark smoke and rippling air, a monster burst from Vivi's stationary form, more of its kind appearing on the battle stage within seconds.

"Again?!" he gasped, his eyes jumping from creature to creature. There were too many of them—at least five. Perspiration began to slide down Roxas' neck as he felt his eyesight go blurry. _What am I going to do?_

Roxas' hands felt sweaty as they gripped the—_it's wrong! It's totally wrong!—_Struggle bat for dear life. He'd seen this before: the stupid bat wouldn't even be able to touch these monsters. He swallowed the lump in his throat, cringing into himself as he watched the creatures advance, mouths opened in wide, grotesque smiles. _I'll never make it out of here alive! I'm fucked. I'm _fucked_. I AM FUCKED—_

His eyes slid shut. _Why does this keep happening? Why is it always happening to me?_ He gritted his teeth, and tightened his hold of the bat. _I can't let this shit keep happening. I've gotta get these things outta here_. Hardened sapphire eyes snapped open, resolution plain and clear. _Hayner…Pence…Olette… We're supposed to go to the beach today! I can't let them down—I already have before. We made a promise. I'm _not_ gonna go back on my word._

And a flash of golden light burst from his palms, shooting through the Struggle bat, encasing it in a glowing cocoon of blinding light. Just as suddenly as it had ignited, the light vanished, leaving behind a heavy, pleasantly humming feeling of warmth running through his hands and up his arms. Roxas stared down at his hands, lips parting in a mute gasp. _The Keyblade?_

One monster slithered through the air, landing in front of him, twirling and writhing on the spot. Roxas lifted his eyes to stare it dead-on. He lowered the Keyblade and sank into the same battle stance that he had seen Sora take and glide through. "Again…" he breathed. Then, without any more hesitation, he sprung forward and sliced right through the monsters with ease, not pausing to watch them disintegrate into black clouds of mist.

When they had all dissipated, the blond turned back to survey the crowd, grimacing when he saw they were still frozen in time. He bit his lower lip in frustration. _What's going on?_ Everything around him was quiet. Entirely too quiet. He lowered his eyes to the ground. _What do I do now?_

The sound of clapping cut through the leaden silence in the air, and Roxas spun around, eagerly anticipating the sight of the citizens of Twilight Town applauding his triumph. But, to his chagrin, stood Axel, all arms and legs and with a huge, predatory smile stretched over his face. "Roxas," he crooned as he sauntered closer. "All right. Fight, fight, fight."

Roxas narrowed his eyes, taking a careful step away from the grinning redhead, the Keyblade vanishing in a glimmer of light. "Axel," he stated, face carefully flat. "What's going on?" A note of worry slipped into his voice, and Roxas mentally berated himself for the minute mistake.

Axel glanced hurriedly over his shoulder as he took the final step towards the blond. "We're getting you out," he replied simply, seizing Roxas' arm, ignoring the presence of the Keyblade, and forcefully leading him away. "Time's running out. The brat's already at 94 percent, and Naminé said that once it passes 75, it finishes up really quickly and—"

"Wait a sec," Roxas growled, wrenching his arm free of Axel's grasp. "Tell me what's going on!"

The older man continued to survey the surrounding area, worry evident in his eyes. "Look, Roxas," he said distractedly, fumbling blindly for the other's arm, "This town is his creation, right? Which means we don't—"

"_Whose_?"

"—have time for a Q & A." Axel turned back to Roxas, eyes firm and unyielding. "You're coming with me," he said, voice eerily calm, sending chills up Roxas' spine. "Then you'll hear the story."

There was something oddly fixating in those flashing emerald eyes. Roxas couldn't bring himself to look away, and, almost in a trance, he nodded mutely, _Yes_.

A touch of a smile passed over Axel's face and he slipped his hand into Roxas', giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Good." And he thrust his other hand forward, causing an outbreak of that dark, unforgiving inferno to explode from the ground. With one last grin down at Roxas, Axel hastily led them into the black abyss. In a strangely childlike and futile compulsion, Roxas shut his eyes to escape from the cold darkness that they descended into.

* * *

_Restoration at 9__5 percent._

* * *

**Like when he had travelled with Riku**, icy flames licked at Roxas' skin and clothes throughout the brisk walk in the deep void. The only thing that kept him sane in his descent was the familiar warmth of Axel's hand in his. Even so, it was only when he could smell the earthy scent of grass and could no longer feel the morbid chill of black fire that he opened his eyes. He gazed upward, surprised to see that Axel had taken them to the Old Mansion. He turned to regard the redhead with confusion, and the man shrugged in a relaxed way—though his shifting eyes suggested that he was anything but.

"It's the route out of here," he explained. "That's why it's guarded by this gate. Only the passcode can get us in there. I can't even open a portal to get inside." He tapped the iron bars that stood sturdy and tall between them and the decrepit building.

Roxas felt the urge to scowl rise within him. The gate was always locked. His glower must have betrayed this thought, because Axel rolled his eyes and jerked a thumb at the large, ornate lock that had warded off all others. "Keys unlock things," he stated, making Roxas start. Seeing the blond's unhappy face, his brow furrowed. "Use the Keyblade."

Roxas dug his feet into the ground and folded his arms across his chest. "No," he replied with a pointed glare.

Axel stared blankly at him, clearly not expecting that sort of reaction. "What?"

"I said 'no,'" Roxas repeated deftly. "I'm not doing anything until explain this all to me."

"_What_?!" Axel clapped a hand to his forehead in disbelief and aggravation. "Roxas," he hissed, "this is kind of a _crucial_ moment! We've gotta get you out of here before—"

He was cut off by the appearance of a glowing column of symbols—_No_, Roxas realised after a beat, _Those are numbers_. A tall man bedecked in flowing maroon robes and a concealed face materialised in the centre of the column, his only visible amber eye expressionless and probing.

Axel's eyes widened at the sight of the man, and he immediately moved to stand in front of Roxas, shielding him from the stranger. "Shit," he muttered beneath his breath. "Roxas," he said quietly, "I need you to summon your Keyblade and get into the mansion, and—"

The unfamiliar person chuckled, his low voice rumbling from deep within his chest. "Roxas," he said, "this man speaks nonsense!"

Axel flinched, but continued to stare down the newcomer. "Roxas," he said forcefully, "don't let him deceive you!" He spread his arms out to the sides, and, not unlike the Keyblades had, two circular weapons adorned with spires formed from nothing, spinning around in Axel's hands, sparks and tendrils of flame dancing about. "Listen, you _have_ to get in the mansion _now_. I don't care how you get to it—break it down for all I care—but there's a secret room—"

The stranger let out a booming laugh, spreading his arms out to the heavens. "Do you not hear this idiocy he speaks?" he shouted, his single eye boring into Roxas' skull. "He is delusional!"

"Someone will definitely show up to help you," Axel continued as if uninterrupted, emerald eyes raging as larger flames began to propagate in the charged air. "I'll hold him off for now, but—"

A third figure appeared on the site through a portal of darkness, this one cloaked in shadows. He lifted his right hand and spread his fingers, a gruesome sword materialising in a crackle of static and black air. Roxas watched him warily, barely suppressing the desire he had to cover his ears. The air around the dark sword was thick with cries of sorrow and rage. It made his head hurt and his chest ache.

The man in red regarded the third man with a nod. "Ah, Ansem," he said lightly, a hint of bitterness in his voice as he uttered the name.—_They know each other?!_—"I was wondering when you'd show up." He averted his gaze back to the defiant Axel. "Eliminate that nuisance. He's trying to interfere."

Ansem didn't reply. Instead, he slowly walked toward Axel and Roxas and faced the pair for a brief moment. Axel's darkened green eyes tore into the darkness beneath the man's hood, perhaps meeting the other's eyes. Then, not without a sense of vertigo, Roxas watched Ansem turn around and point his screaming sword at the man in red.

"DiZ," came Ansem's deep voice—_Riku?_ Roxas blinked. _That's Riku's voice._—from the dark recesses of his hood. "You will let these two leave, alive." His voice was hard, leaving no room for compromise.

The man in red, DiZ, stared at Ansem—_I'm pretty sure that's Riku._—for a long moment before letting out a heavy sigh. "The heart is the most difficult thing to predict," he mused vaguely, amber eye narrowing. "Tell me, Ansem, why are you choosing to side with these…_Nobodies_?"

The word sent a wave of sharp pain crashing through Roxas' skull and he dropped to his knees with a cry of agony. _'You are a Nobody.'_

Axel's head whipped around. "Roxas!" He swooped down on the blond, his weapons vanishing as he collected the thrashing boy into his arms. _'Nobodies are those without hearts.'_ He swiftly rose to his feet. "Riku," he said urgently to Ansem. (_I knew it was him_, Roxas registered dimly amidst the searing pain in his head as everything went dark.) Axel glanced down at the pale blond in his arms before staring back at the unbothered DiZ. "There's no more time for this, and there's no way he'll be able to open—"

Riku grunted and extended his sword at the gate's lock. With a barely audible _click!_ the gate swung open. DiZ continued to watch impassively. "Get going," Riku ordered. "Restoration's at 95 percent, at _least_—and whatever you do, do _not_ let him enter the chamber! He'll disappear!"

But Axel had already started sprinting into the mansion.

* * *

_Restoration at 9__6 percent._

* * *

**When Roxas opened his eyes, he was** propped up against a wall in a terribly cold room that he'd never seen before. Axel stood hunched over a giant set of computers, muttering under his breath as he punched several keys in quick succession. Roxas tentatively got to his feet, ignoring the stab of pain in his head, and silently looked around.

The room was made of metal and bore the same sort of essence as a mad science laboratory. He sniffed the air tentatively. It was strangely thin and he could swear it almost tasted metallic. "Axel," he called.

"Yeah?" Axel's voice was stressed, and he didn't look up.

"Where are we?" Roxas asked as he wandered over to a display of translucent capsules. He squinted at them. In the background, near Axel, he could just make out the sound of a female, computerised voice coolly drawling out the words, _"Restoration at 97 percent."_ Axel swore beneath his breath. Roxas glanced over at the redhead, raising his eyebrows. "Well?" he prodded.

"We're in the mansion," Axel replied, voice tight and shoulders tensed. "Listen, Roxas, no offence, but I need you to be quiet for a bit… I kinda need the silence…"

Roxas idly hummed in agreement and continued to scrutinise the capsules. His breath froze in his lungs as he realised there were _people_ inside the capsules—well, not exactly _people_… Nestled peacefully in the capsules were the Duck and the Dog.

"…Donald," Roxas breathed, staring at the Duck. His eyes roved to the Dog. "…Goofy?" The names rolled off his tongue with strange ease, and he couldn't help but feel unnerved. He quickly backed away from them, only to pause when he felt something. He blinked and looked around. There was nobody there. Just Axel. He frowned. He was sure he felt _something_…

He carefully and slowly moved about the small room, trying to find that same _feeling_ again.

_There!_ He stopped, an extraordinary, unseen torrential energy raining down on him, demanding that he turn around. Bracing himself, he turned around, finding himself face to face with a door. He stared at it, eyes wide. _What's beyond the door?_ He took an experimental step forward, and the energy continued to tug on him, little invisible hands beckoning him to come _closer! nearer! here! now!_

He carefully laid his hand on the handle of the thick steel door, feeling the air suddenly grow thick around his senses, muting everything in the world around him except for the dull sound of blood rushing in his ears. He turned the heavy handle, and it began to give with a loud screech—

Axel put a hand on his shoulder, and Roxas spun around, all the energy vanishing from the air. The redhead's eyes were large and slightly fearful. "Do not," he murmured softly, his fingers digging into Roxas' shoulder, "go into that room. No matter what."

Roxas nodded dumbly, allowing himself to be taken away from the door. Axel's face remained pale and troubled. "I don't care anymore," Axel muttered as they returned to the computers. "I'm getting you out of here, no matter what…" He punched a few more buttons, and the female voice stated, _"Restoration at 98 percent."_ Axel swore again and typed with more vigour. "Don't worry, Roxas," Axel said, voice hitching as sweat visibly began to bead on his forehead, "I'll get you out…"

Roxas' mouth went dry. _Get me out?_ he thought, blood chilling in his veins. _I can't leave. What about my friends? I can't leave them!_

"I can't go!" Roxas blurted, and Axel must have missed a key and hit the wrong button, because the curses started to fly.

"Like hell you can't!" Axel retorted, fingers moving more rapidly than the eye could see. "I said I'd fucking get you out, and you are fucking _getting out_!" he barked, punching one final key. There was the sharp crackle of static, and a platform that stood in the corner of the room lit up, a levitating ball of green-tinted darkness wavering shakily in the air. Axel let out a strange, animalistic sound of success. "Done," he hissed, turning his blazing eyes to Roxas. "C'mon," he growled, tugging at the blond. "We're getting the _fuck_ outta here—"

Roxas pulled away, eyes wide. "I can't!" he exclaimed. He backed away from Axel, feeling trepidation and panic well up inside, threatening to overflow. "This isn't real!"

Axel looked like he would explode. "_NOT REAL_?!" he bellowed, sparks and flames combusting in the air around him. "Roxas, I don't care if you believe me or not. You're coming with me, conscious or not." His eyes flashed. "Now, get your skinny ass in that portal _now_!" He made a particularly rough pull on the blond's arm and sent Roxas crashing into him.

_"Restoration at 99 percent."_

"NO!" Roxas screeched, trying to break free from the redhead's stranglehold. "My friends! I made a _promise_!! A PROMISE!"

"Fucking _hell_!!" Axel swore, tightening his iron grip on the boy. In a freak burst of strength, he slammed Roxas against the metal wall, and glared down at him. "You wanna talk about _promises_?" he snarled, flames raging in his eyes. "Well, guess what, I don't give a rat's ass about what promise you made your 'friends' here! Fucking hell! I made a promise to _you_ a long time ago, and there is _no way in hell_ that I'm gonna break it! Not for anything! Not for Riku, the Organisation, and _certainly not_ for any of your fucking 'friends'!!"

With that, he grabbed Roxas by his collar and wrenched him into the portal. And the last thing Roxas saw, before the world ripped apart around him and he felt his feet give out beneath him, was a dark shadow creeping across the metal floor, its yellow eyes glowing hungrily. Then everything went white.

* * *

_Restoration complete._

* * *

**The Afterword:** Ahahaha, that sucked hardcore. XD But at least they finally got Roxas out, after three chapters of running around in circles… D:  
Oh, my God, this fic takes forever to write… DX _:sobs:_ I'm really sorry I didn't update sooner…

So, comments and concrit are appreciated! And, for the love of God, someone has to whack me every once in a while to tell me to start working on the next chapter. D8

And, to be random, there is a new poll on my profile pertaining to Cloud Strife. :D Your results are much appreciated.


	5. x : creeping shadows

**Summary:** (slight AU) Dreams always result in an awakening, and twilight always fades. What if Roxas had left Twilight Town with Axel? (AkuRoku, Riku/Sora, implied Zemyx)**  
Disclaimer:** Guh. Disclaimers depress me. Seriously.**  
Rant:** There are lots of Heartless in this chapter, and I'm actually quite satisfied with the way they were written. :D I think encounters with Heartless are my favourite things to write in this fic—those and the meetings with Sora. I _love_ those. :3  
I don't like writing Roxas' dream sequences/streams of consciousness, by contrast. They frustrate me. D: Don't know why. They just do. They're so annoying. Sucks that they're necessary…  
And I'm sorry if I got the geography wrong… :/ I was doing it by memory. I might've messed up the maps in my mind. It's been a while since I played the first game. :B  
OMG, ROXASSSSSS!!!!!! I'm sorry I made you so hapless!!! D8**  
Notes:** D'awww, this fic is over a year old, now!! D: That makes me strangely teary.  
Thank you guys so much for being patient with me… I've been very busy with university applications and school and relationship strife. :/ Life has taken a random turn for the more complicated…

* * *

**Started:** September 30, 2008.**  
Completed:** December 17, 2008.

* * *

**Twilight  
**_x : __creeping shadows_

* * *

"_**This world has been connected**__. Tied to the—"_

_—darkness was closing in on him, pressing closer, deeper, from all sides. He coughed fruitlessly, trying to drive air into his lungs. It burned—_

_—magnificently, the flames twisting and turning, coiling and writhing around the single, long-stemmed rose held loosely between nimble fingers. His eyes lifted to meet those of the other, and he fought down the butterflies that—_

_"—flew. Wait 'til I tell Kai—"_

_"—is from one of those other worlds!" the Other Boy told him excitedly, aqua eyes wide with excitement. "Sora," he breathed, clasping the Boy's hands in his own and giving them an affectionate squeeze. "This is what we've been wait—"_

_"—ing for you," the Other Boy sneered, all warmth in his eyes having long froze over, leaving them empty and iced: completely unforgiving. "We've always been rivals, haven't we?" he mused, cold eyes sliding shut in what might have been bittersweet nostalgia. "You've always pushed me, as I've always—"_

_—pushed furiously at the door, but it just wouldn't budge. He _had_ to close it. From within the darkness of the door, he could just make out the squirming black forms of the Heartless, each clambering to escape from the deep void.  


* * *

_

"_All hearts return to darkness."_

* * *

**His head hurt.**

When Roxas awoke, he found that he simply couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. His head just ached too much. He had tried to crack his eyes open on more than one occasion, but each attempt led to nothing more than a wave of migraines. He had absolutely no desire to try shifting his body, either. His limbs were numb with fatigue and felt like lead.

In the end, Roxas had little choice other than to simply lie motionless in bed, exhausted and incredibly confused.

Exactly _what_ had happened? Where was he?

He managed to feebly twitch his fingers, his horribly cold fingers, and felt what seemed to be a thick blanket and bedclothes.

_Bedclothes?_ he thought vaguely, furrowing his brow with great effort. _Am I just in bed?_ he asked himself.

_No_.

The answer was spoken only in his mind, and yet Roxas knew it had not been an answer conceived by his own consciousness. Blind confusion welled up within him as he picked at the great blank spot in his memory, the void vast and unfathomable. Any sort of recollection was just _too_ far away. He extended a small tendril of light into the depths of his mind, searching, searching…only to find nothing. Just black space and a peculiar sense of emptiness that was matched only by the presence of nothing.

Roxas frowned inwardly and pushed into his mind again. This time, he found something. It was a strange thing, to feel a physical manifestation in the depths of his mind, but there was something tangible there—a door.

He unconsciously pushed at it, but it refused to creak open. Locked.

Frustrated, Roxas did something illogical: he slipped into his mind, in a form no more or less physical than his surroundings, knelt down before the door, pressed one of his glowing blue eyes to the keyhole, and gazed in at what lay beyond the door.

—_i'mgonnaneedyoutotrustme—someone'stryingtokillme—THISISJUSTA__**DREAM**__—whoareyou—iwould—whatthehelldoyouwant—doesn'trememberanythingworthremembering—wehavecomeforyoumyliege—allthestolenpicturesareofroxas—youarea__**nobody**__—whatiskingdomhearts—canyoufeelsora—itfaded—doyourememberanything—it'sjustafeeling—whoareyougonnatrust—iamyourfriend—we'regonnagetyououtofhere—thingslikethiscan'tremainburiedforlong—areyoufeelingallrightintheattic—doyouknowwho__**you**__are—whichpartswerethedream—they'reontheirway—werewefriends—LOOKAWAY—whatifyoureallyarethekeytounlockingdestiny—it'stotally__**wrong**__—youshouldnotbesoquicktodifferentiateanddismissrealityfromthedream—waitwhat—keysunlockthings—someonewilldefinitelyshowuptohelpyou—we'llfindawayoutofthis—whataboutmyfriends—APROMISE—don'tleavemehere—can'tyouatleast__**try**__totrustme—i'mgettingtheweirdestvibefromyou—i'llholdhimoff—restorationcomplete_—

Roxas jolted to life, convulsing and sitting up abruptly in his bed, gasping for air, sweat dripping down his face. His eyes were wide and his pupils dilated as his eyes frantically roved over the expanse of his surroundings. He was in a sparsely decorated bedroom. The only furniture in the room other than the bed was a large, overstuffed armchair that sat in the corner of the room, angled in such a way that it faced both the door and the bed Roxas was in. Taking a few uneven breaths, he weakly clawed at the sheets he was tangled in, struggling to free himself from the soft blue sheets and nearly toppling to the floor in his effort. His whole body was deadened and felt immensely heavy, and the prickling of a thousand invisible needles plagued him from all sides. A rough spasm spiked in him, starting in his calf and shooting to his head and he jerked again, this time tumbling forward and actually pitching himself to the ground. He landed in a crumpled heap and let out a low groan, his voice sounding nothing like it usually did—it was all scratchy and dry, like it hadn't been used for some time. He let out a hacking cough that grated his rough throat. His stomach convulsed and he retched painfully.

There was a sudden thumping of footsteps from the next room, and the door flew open, revealing a pair of worn, dark boots. "You took a long time to wake up. Go figure," a sarcastic male voice drawled. The boots made their way over to Roxas, who was fighting to keep his vision focused and his eyes open. Warm, gloved hands slipped under Roxas' weary form and easily hefted him from the floor and softly replaced the blond on top of the rumpled sheets. "Geez, Roxas," the voice murmured, almost fondly, "You're going to get yourself killed like this."

Roxas blinked, his vision swimming before his eyes. He coughed again and squinted up at the mess of shock red hovering above his face. Those careful hands were adjusting Roxas and the bedclothes, propping up the teenager against a few overstuffed pillows and pulling blankets over Roxas' trembling form. _Who…?_

The man sighed wearily and tugged on a single blond spike of Roxas' hair. "Kid, you're really in awful shape. That guy really didn't take care of you…" There was a muffled, unintelligible grunt and the sound of a glass bottle being uncorked. Roxas wrinkled his nose as a heavy medicinal odour propagated throughout the room, hanging in the air, pungent and thick. The man tilted Roxas' head back and gently coaxed the blond's chapped lips open. He hesitated and cautioned, "This'll taste pretty nasty."

A half-conscious hum of indifference was the only answer Roxas could give. He wasn't clear enough to really understand what was going on. He just wanted the world to stop spinning before his eyes.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

Something searing fastened over Roxas' lips and all at once, a bitter, herbal liquid flooded Roxas' mouth, the fluid was warm and bubbling as it went down his throat, but it sent tremors of ice sailing through his body, the frost descending into his muscles before melting into throes of heat that radiated pleasantly. Roxas coughed violently. But then, just a moment after the drink had settled into his body, flowing into all his aches and pains, a strange sense of alleviation washed over the blond and he blinked, startled. His vision had defogged around the edges, and his laboured breathing had been eased to a dull wheeze.

There was an amused hum from the man, and from somewhere beside Roxas' face, he idly warned, "Here's the second dosage."

A second dose of the liquid sloshed into the blond's mouth and, this time, Roxas swallowed without hesitation, the medicine settled into his limbs again, leaving behind a comfortable glow and spreading warmth throughout his body. The teenager let out a soft, contented sigh and nestled down into his blankets and pillows, sleep tugging stubbornly at his eyelids. "'m tired," he mumbled as his eyes slid shut.

A hand absent-mindedly stroked Roxas' mussed hair. "Then sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

Roxas let out a noncommittal sigh and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_His heart is returning. Doubtless he'll awaken soon._

* * *

**There was something strange** in the air when Roxas awoke. He was still slightly lightheaded from his powernap, but he was still lucid enough to feel the foreign chill tugging at the corner of his mind. Uneasy sapphire eyes surveyed the expanse of the dark room, searching vainly for the source of the apprehension hanging over Roxas' head. Like a child, he sank further into his blankets, a nagging sense of fear growing within his chest and his stomach turning somersaults.

_What is that?_ Roxas wondered anxiously, eyes darting back and forth, hunting for the source of unrest. His eyes came to rest on the plush chair that sat in the corner of the room. In the dim light, he could just make out the contorted figure of his caretaker,—_Axel. That's his name._—slouched in his seat, limbs dangling over the cushioned arms. The redhead's body was deceptively languid in its appearance, but Roxas could just make out a definite tick in Axel's right hand. Axel could feel something was off, too.

"…Axel," Roxas whispered, his voice feathery in the darkness.

Axel's fingers twitched slightly. "Yes?" he finally said, voice low.

Roxas licked his dry lips, eyes flickering over to the door. "There's something coming."

The redhead grunted in response. "You noticed, huh?" Axel shifted his position, sitting upright and popping a few vertebrae in the process. He sighed, lifted a weary hand, and snapped his fingers, sending sparks flying and a fire sputtering to life in the palm of his gloved hand. He raised the flame close to his face, so he could see Roxas properly. His lips were pulled into a grim line. "Roxas," he said as he got to his feet and approached the door. His emerald eyes reflected flecks of gold in the twisting flames. Axel cast a sideways glance at the blond, eyes stony. "Stay here," he advised. "I'll take care of whatever the disturbance is." The man extinguished the fire and seized the doorknob.

Something in Roxas wrenched painfully and he flinched, head jerking up and his eyes flashing. "W-wait!" he gasped, shoving his blankets aside and sliding off the bed and stumbling over to Axel. His legs were frail and shaky beneath him and the teenager nearly collapsed at Axel's feet, his fingers curling weakly in the smooth leather of the other's long coat. "I'm coming with you."

A strange expression akin to anguish rippled over Axel's face for the briefest of moments before vanishing as suddenly as it had appeared. He gazed down at Roxas, face carefully blank and stony. "You're not coming," he brusquely informed the blond. "You're in no condition to deal with possible enemies."

"Screw that," Roxas snapped, his hoarse voice grating roughly. He tightened his fragile grip on Axel's coat sleeve and glared up defiantly at the redhead. "I'm not staying in here by myself. I'm going with you."

Axel was silent for a moment, just observing Roxas. Finally, he released the doorknob and dragged a hand through his crimson spikes with an exasperated sigh. "Fine," he muttered through gritted teeth. He narrowed his eyes at the teenager. "Don't make me regret this," he warned, eyes glinting. Roxas merely nodded and righted himself, reluctantly relinquishing his grip on the other.

The redhead returned his hand to the doorknob and slowly opened the door, which swung open soundlessly. He took a few tentative steps out into the other room, Roxas quietly following.

Roxas' eyes drunk as much as he could about the dark room, making unconscious note of the large wood-burning stove that was standing in the back corner. Its fire was extinguished, and the room was drenched in almost complete darkness; the only source of light was a single candle that rested on a waxed, wooden table, cascading droplets of melted wax and spitting burnt ash. The candle's small flame faltered slightly when Axel and Roxas entered, wavering anxiously and causing shadows to spin, bouncing off the curtained window and the front door of the flat.

Roxas, who had become quite entranced with the twisting fire and the dancing shadows, unintentionally walked into the still Axel and balked in embarrassment. The redhead turned slightly to regard the mortified teen with a small, strained grin. "Watch your step," he said, a lilt of mock threading into his voice. Roxas scowled deeply, but stayed put.

Something outside the flat creaked ominously, and Roxas sucked in a tense gasp of air, his eyes darting up to watch Axel. "What was that?" Roxas hissed. There was a distinct chill in the air, melancholic in nature and mutable, shifting its shape and washing over the blond, bitter cold rippling out from its source and flowing into the air around Roxas, making him swim in gloom. Roxas gingerly touched a hand to his forehead. The peculiar sensation of watery sorrow was familiar. With each passing second, the numbness increased, coming closer and closer to submerging and drowning Roxas in its pith.

Axel distractedly shushed him, his shoulders stiffened and his two ring-like weapons materialised in his hands, appearing in rapid spirals of glowing combustion. He furrowed his brow and muttered, "There're _two_ of them." He tightened his grip on his spiked weapons and stalked toward the door, poised for attack.

Roxas blinked heavily. _Two?_ he thought. He squeezed his eyes shut and fought to discern a second presence in the midst of the—_There it is!_ It was barely noticeable, almost muted by the swirling abyss. Cloaked in the sea of grief was a suppressed whirlwind of raw energy and emotion, radiating a spastic black heat as it ripped its way toward Roxas and Axel, approaching at an alarming rate.

Blue eyes snapped open in fearful understanding. _The second presence is cloaking itself in the first._ The raging black spiral was flying now, tearing through the world, rapidly becoming closer, closer, closer, closer, closer, _closer_—!!

Instinctually, Roxas reeled and sprinted for the redhead. "Axel!"

But it was too late.

The door burst open, nearly flying off its hinges, and Axel lunged, weapons spinning madly, flames crackling through the air as he released one, sending it flying into the doorway. Then, steadily, everything slowed to a gradual stop: Axel frozen mid-throw and his weapon suspended motionlessly in the air, halted in its assault. In this stage of stillness, all of Axel's flames had been extinguished.

_…what…?_ Roxas himself froze as well, and from where he stood, he could just make out the small black, yellow-eyed creature that hovered silently in the doorway, its glowing eyes peering from over the edge of a thick, black leather-bound, silver embossed book. There was something uncannily intelligent and calculating about the creature's gaze and Roxas couldn't help but feel as if he was being scrutinised. The dark creature itself was not completely unlike the slinky white monsters Roxas had been fighting in Twilight Town—_This certainly isn't Twilight Town. I guess Axel actually _did_ get me out…whatever that means…_—like those monsters, it was nonhuman, that much was certain. Yet, whereas the white monsters bore an unexplainable void of static and nothingness about them, this black creature that floated mutely in the doorway bore an essence that was a polar opposite: it was surrounded in a torrential field of conflicting emotions, its static screaming and laughing and crying all at once. Roxas was not sure which he preferred, the cacophony of noise or the dead silence.

A soft hum from behind the dark creature dragged Roxas back to his frozen reality. _That was definitely human_, Roxas thought, straining his peripherals to beyond Axel and the creature—to see what lurked behind the being. Another wave of ice splashed over Roxas' consciousness, the impact of the sensation had increased tenfold, and the blond realised that the source of the vexed emotion—the person who had hummed—was standing just outside the flat.

"Axel, I gotta say, I'm kinda surprised you made it over here so quickly… Did you give up?" The voice was youthful and oddly cheerful, contrasting vividly with the sombre aura he emanated. The black creature floated into the flat and a lanky youth with unruly, dirty-blond hair styled in a peculiar cross between a mullet and a mohawk sauntered in, his bottle green eyes bright as he took in the sight of the immobile Axel. Like Riku and Axel, he was dressed in the same garb: long, sweeping black leather coat and gloves and worn leather boots. He was drenched in water and he dripped small water droplets everywhere he went, leaving a trail of small puddles in his wake. He closed the door behind him and turned back to face Axel, only for his eyes to land on the paralysed Roxas. A gloved hand shot to his mouth and his eyes grew wide. "R-Roxas?" the youth sputtered incredulously, hurrying over to the smaller blond. He let out a strange choking sound and spun around to the black creature, who was also studying Roxas with what could only be described as intrigue. "Stop the magic," the green-eyed youth told it, and the creature merely blinked.

Roxas felt all control return to his limbs and he sagged, falling forward into the arms of the stranger and gasping as he felt air rush into his lungs and his head go light with dizziness. A few metres away, Axel let out an annoyed growl and made his weapons dissipate. "Demyx," the redhead snarled as he stormed over to Roxas and the stranger. "_Why_ are you here?"

The stranger's blue-green eyes widened slightly and he tightened his hold on Roxas. "Geez, Axel," he muttered, looking miffed, "One would think you'd be happy to get some help…" He made a vague fluttering gesture with his hand toward the slumped Roxas. "And it's _clear_ that you're not doing so hot with Roxas—what the hell happened to him, anyway?" he demanded, jerking his head at the hazy blond. "He disappears for, what, a week or something, and he ends up like _this_!" The cool aura that had been churning around the stranger spiked unexpectedly. "Just what happened?"

Axel's eyes flashed and a surge of volatile energy propagated from his being, sparking through the air and making the hair on the back of Roxas' neck stand on end. "_DiZ_ happened," Axel spat.

Demyx raised a fine eyebrow and glanced down speculatively at the limp form of Roxas. "DiZ?" He frowned faintly and pursed his lips. "Who's that?"

"That is classified information," Axel returned coolly, folding his thin arms across his chest and raising his chin challengingly at the sandy-haired youth. He crossed the small room and easily pulled Roxas from Demyx's grip and hoisted the blond into his arms.

"Uh huh," Demyx said dryly, allowing the teenager to be taken from him. He put his hands on his hips and looked around inquisitively, water droplets flying from his body as he moved. "Where've you been keeping Roxas, anyway?" He cast a reproving look over at the collapsed blond before giving Axel a level stare. "He's really unwell, Axel."

"You _think_?" Axel snapped, clutching the gasping Roxas closer to his chest and backing away to the door that led to the bedroom.

"Well, geez," Demyx muttered, quirking an eyebrow. "No need to be so sensitive, Axel. I'm just concerned…" His lips tugged downward. "He's in horrible shape—I haven't seen him this bad since… Well, since he first joined the Organisation."

Roxas lifted his head a fraction from the warmth of Axel's chest, sick breath rattling in his lungs. _The Organisation_, Roxas hazily registered. _This guy…Demyx…he knows about the Organisation._ Blue eyes took in the soft, vaguely feminine form of Demyx. _Is he a member, too? Like Axel? Like…like me?_

Axel roughly stormed into the bedroom and, with surprising tenderness, laid Roxas down on the bed and tucked him in. He gave a last, cursory look at the blond teenager before turning to survey Demyx with a mildly disgruntled look. "So, what're you doing here?"

After assuming an annoyed look, Demyx took a minute step backward, edging away from Roxas and Axel and closer to his floating black companion. "Roxas is my friend, too," he said crossly. His irate expression faltered slightly as his eyes returned to the weary Roxas and his forehead creased in concern.

Roxas stared silently up at Demyx, guilt swelling in his chest at the worry in the other's eyes. "I…" Roxas began, voice reedy, "I'm really sorry," he mumbled, averting his gaze in shame. "I…I don't remember you…"

Demyx's verdant eyes widened. _He's probably shocked_, Roxas sullenly thought to himself as he nibbled distractedly on the inside of his cheeks. _Axel looked pretty distressed when I didn't recognise him, too_.

The teenager's prediction hadn't been incorrect; no sooner had Roxas admitted his lapse in memory did Demyx immediately turn to face Axel, disbelief plainly written across his features. "What exactly happened?" Demyx asked.

Axel sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as he shook his head tiredly. "I really don't know," he confessed. "I thought it might have something to do with the brat—yes, _that_ one—but I'm not so sure, now," he said. "The restoration's complete and I had infiltrated the enemy and had Naminé—long story…—fix and rewire his memories and stuff…" Axel's thin eyebrows knitted together as he ambled across the bedroom and sat down heavily in the armchair. He shook his head. "There's still something wrong, though."

"Is it health related?" Demyx persisted, bustling over to Roxas' bed and absentmindedly checking the teenager's temperature and pulse. The black creature followed a few paces behind Demyx, its large eyes examining the blond with keen interest.

"I really don't know," Axel said with a sigh, leaning backwards in his chair and staring up at the ceiling. I gave him two potions earlier, but they don't seem to be doing much…"

Demyx clicked his tongue and began rummaging in the deep pockets of his coat. "I don't think potions'll be very helpful," he said. He glanced over to his hovering companion and said, "Elixirs would be better, right?"

The creature's head eagerly bobbed up and down in reply and Axel raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "I've been meaning to ask," Axel said slowly as he watched Demyx fish out a small flask of glowing green liquid and present it to Roxas, who weakly uncorked it and drank the contents without complaint. Axel smiled softly as Roxas visibly brightened, some colour returning to his ashen cheeks.

"Ask what?" Demyx prodded, digging through his pockets once again.

"Well," Axel said, "What's with the Bookmaster?"

"Oh!" Demyx flushed slightly and coughed awkwardly. "Um…"

Roxas had sat up in his bed, feeling reasonably better. "What's a 'book master'?" he asked. The black creature looked strangely miffed and began flipping furiously through the pages of its thick tome. Roxas couldn't help but smile bemusedly at its antics.

"A Bookmaster is a type of Heartless," Axel explained. The Bookmaster had apparently found the page it was searching for and turned its book around to show Roxas a page crammed with minute, calligraphy handwriting and a detailed, moving illustration of the Bookmaster. Roxas strained his eyes to read some of the text and found that it was a comprehensive bestiary entry on the Bookmaster, woven with information on its strength with magic and observations on its behaviour. All details had been painstakingly made, and the diagram of the creature was labelled with meticulous side notes on the Heartless' anatomy and general physiology.

"Oh," Roxas said, jerking his head back to avoid having his nose clipped when the Bookmaster slammed its tome shut and huffily backed away to its place beside Demyx. "But what's a Heartless?" Roxas wanted to know.

"A Heartless is the physical manifestation of the darkness in a person's heart," Demyx said, matter-of-factly.

Axel seemed amused. "How very scholarly of you, Demyx," he snickered. "Been studying, lately?"

Demyx scowled and the Heartless' body shook for a brief moment. _Was it just laughing?_ Roxas wondered.

"But, yeah," Axel said. "That's right. Now, back to _my_ question: what's up with the Heartless, Demyx?" He rose to his feet and crossed the room, clearly intending to inspect the Heartless. The Bookmaster, however, seemed to want none of this and jerked away from the redhead's touch. Axel's eyebrows rose. "This one's feisty," he remarked, tucking his hands into his pockets. "And I don't think I've ever seen one quite like this…don't they usually wear green?"

The Heartless' dark body was swathed in silvery-purple satin with cobalt trim and violet gloves. A matching hat was perched on its head, but the hat must have been too big for the creature, because it kept tilting off its head at an angle, the brim sliding over the Bookmaster's right eye.

"He is a bit unusual," Demyx agreed, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. "I found him wandering around Ansem's Library over in Hollow Bastion just a few days after that fiasco in Castle Oblivion, and, well…" Demyx shrugged helplessly. "I can't get him to leave me alone. He's been following me everywhere."

"Why don't you just destroy him, then?" Axel asked, smirking when the Bookmaster's eyes flashed resentfully.

Demyx coughed and shrugged. "He's useful," he said slowly. "I mean, you know that _Stopga_ spell we used earlier? When we first arrived?"

Axel chuckled ruefully. "How could we forget?"

Roxas blinked. _Stopga spell? Spell? Like magic? Was that magic?_ The Bookmaster seated itself on the bed beside Roxas and looked up at the blond with its large, bright eyes. It nudged the book into the teenager's lap, silently imploring him to read. Roxas glanced down at the page; it was the same entry on the Bookmaster that he had been looking at previously.

"Yup," Demyx said with a hearty nod. "That was all him. I did none of it."

Axel snorted. "That figures," he sniggered. "You were always pretty crappy at magic. It's about time you got someone to do all the dirty work for you!" Demyx swatted the redhead, sending water spraying from his sleeve, and Axel cracked up. "Geez, Demyx, you should definitely get this guy to join the Organisation—oh, wait, maybe not. It's a kind of racist group, isn't it? Nobodies only, eh?"

While the two older men bantered, Roxas continued to scrutinise the entry. He frowned. _'A great mage who can handle all three types of elemental magic'_, Roxas read. He sceptically eyed the Bookmaster sitting on his bed. _Elemental, huh? I'm pretty sure freezing time isn't elemental magic._ He turned back to the book and further poured over the page—_Hey, what's this?_ He gave a last thoughtful look at the image of the Heartless, then closed the book and stared blankly at the solid, leather cover. "Demyx," he said loudly, the name rolling off his tongue in a vaguely familiar way. "The book is different."

"What do you mean?" Axel asked.

The blond pointed at the entwined silver-plated insignia melted into the hard, black leather: three spiked hearts overlapped, spires stretching outward from the centre of the cover. Beneath the symbols were two lines of painted silver text, inscribed in the same neat handwriting that the entry on the Bookmaster had been written in. "This," Roxas said, "is not the same book the picture has in it." He turned back to the entry. "The book in the picture is the Akashic Record," Roxas told them. He turned his gaze to the Heartless. "This guy isn't a typical Bookmaster." He looked up at Axel and furrowed his brow; the redhead's jaw had all but fallen open.

"That book…" Axel murmured, extending a hand to touch it—only for it to be slapped away by the Bookmaster. Axel blanched. "_Zexion_?"

Demyx laughed awkwardly. "Y-Yeah," he stammered, cheeks colouring. "I'm positive that's Zexion's Heartless. I mean, that's his Lexicon…"

Roxas cocked his head, confused. "Zexion?" he repeated.

"He was a member of the Organisation," Axel supplied.

Roxas blinked. "_Was_?"

Demyx stiffened and Axel, who merely cast a nonchalant look over at the youth, replied, "Long story."

* * *

_Silence, traitor._

* * *

**After spending some time in** the company of both Axel and Demyx, Roxas had come to the conclusion that Axel, while he was outwardly cheerful and friendly around Demyx, honestly did not trust the other man. It also became clear that Demyx held similar sentiment toward the redhead. And though these would normally seem like conditions for a very awkward environment, the turnout was very different; Axel and Demyx had no difficulty in falling in beat with each other and played a very intricate game of avoiding questions and dancing around answers with guile. There was an intangible wall of suspicion between the two, and all occupants of the flat were aware of this—hell, the Bookmaster was probably aware, too. Everyone was lying to each other. Everyone except Roxas.

Roxas was the only person who couldn't quite keep up with the quick pace of deceit. He didn't know what else to do but tell the truth, in this scenario. It was a peculiar situation, he had somehow been torn from Twilight Town, and while he was still bitter at Axel, there wasn't much he could do about his current position. Plain and simple, he had no idea where he was. Worse still, no one seemed to have any interest in telling him.

He hadn't expected Axel to give him any information—_After all, he's just _so_ talented at forgetting to tell me important stuff…_—but Roxas had been honestly surprised to find that Demyx, too, had no desire to sate his unending questions. The blond man had seemed like a much more forgiving figure…someone more sympathetic. But, no, when Roxas asked Demyx a simple question—"What's supposed to happen, now?"—the man had merely shrugged and raised his blue-green eyes to the ceiling. "You'll have to ask Axel," he had replied dolefully. "But he probably won't say. I know that he made all the rooms here impossible to infiltrate by portal, but still…it's not safe to discuss these things."

_Gee. Thanks for the help._

As it was, Zexion the Heartless was the only one Roxas was getting on well with. The Bookmaster's silence was oddly comforting. It was better, Roxas thought, to have no answers rather than lies.

Interestingly, the Bookmaster seemed to be a source of further unspoken antagonism between Axel and Demyx. The Bookmaster itself didn't seem knowledgeable of the underlying cause of the schism, but it, like Roxas, was perfectly aware of its presence.

The bedroom was unofficially Roxas'. Where Demyx and the Bookmaster stayed at night, Roxas wasn't sure. Axel had made himself at home in the plush chair that faced the doorway, always keeping one piercing green eye focussed on the blond. As Roxas settled into the bed one night, he decidedly looked away from the redhead and shook his head with a sigh when he felt the eyes boring into the back of his skull. _Paranoid is the only word for it_, he thought with a snort. He finally raised his eyes to regard Axel with a wry smile. "Goodnight, Axel," he said as he kicked off his boots and buried himself in his sheets.

"G'night."

* * *

…_you__ had best see the truth for yourself._

* * *

**Blue eyes snapped open a****nd Roxas** jerked up in bed. His head whipped around, eyes shifting nervously about the room. His gaze fell upon the plush chair; it was empty. Axel was gone.

Roxas slowly slid out of bed and he gingerly placed his feet on the ground and pulled his boots on, breath wheezing in his lungs and coming from his mouth in feathery puffs of chilled clouds. He tiptoed across the room to the door and turned the knob. He frowned. Locked.

_Of course it's locked…_ Roxas sourly thought to himself. He furrowed his brows in irritation and stared down at the doorknob. A sudden idea came to him, and his fingers twitched restlessly at his sides as he peered thoughtfully at the keyhole in the door. _I wonder_… He licked his lips and allowed his eyes to slide shut in concentration, mentally willing the door to unlock itself. Roxas slowly let a hand rise, fingers clenching around a handle, smooth metal vibrating and humming within his grip. _Keys unlock things_.

The lock clicked.

Just as Roxas' eyes flew open and he gasped in shock, the door burst open and Axel barged in, nearly bowling the blond over. "Roxas!" Axel gasped, grabbing the boy firmly by the shoulders and sagging against him. "We've gotta get outta here," he said, words rushed and apprehensive. His pupils were dilated and his large, green eyes kept shifting wildly about the room like a feral beast, watching all the shadows with wariness and anxiety.

"Why? What's going on?" Roxas asked. His mind was hazy and he was still startled and confused by Axel's dramatic entrance. He could vaguely feel Axel's fingers digging painfully into his shoulders; embedded in the grip of the redhead's left hand was something small, metal, and carefully shaped. His gaze flickered down to see what the object was. A wave of disappointment washed over him as he realised that the object the man held was a thick, ornate silver key. The glowing metal grew hazy in Roxas' eyes and his vision began to fade unfaithfully.

"…artless are attacking," Axel's voice was clouded and slow in Roxas' head. The blond squinted at the man in front of him and shook his head in a childish attempt to alleviate the dizziness lingering about him. Axel's face swam into its surroundings, becoming a coloured blur with shining pinpricks of emerald.

"Wh…what?" he mumbled, blinking rapidly.

Axel's face suddenly came back into sharp detail. "The Heartless are attacking," Axel said again, his voice clear and his tone urgent. "They're coming into the district—Demyx left to hold them off—we've gotta get out _now_." He immediately spun around, encircling one of Roxas' wrists in his grip and roughly yanking the teenager out of the bedroom and into the main room of the flat. The wooden table was shoved askew into the far corner of the room, deep scratches gorged in its once-glossy surface; the half-melted candle lay forgotten on the floor, its cool wax surrounding it in a solid puddle of clouded white. Both the table and the surrounding walls were charred, glowing orange wood still smoking, and in one corner, a strange, inhuman silhouette was scorched into the floor, black soot outlining where a creature—_a Heartless?_—once stood.

Roxas' eyes hovered over the mess, wide and shocked. "What happened there?" Roxas gasped, his legs feeling boneless as he staggered into Axel's back. He turned to face the redhead, the colour had drained from Roxas' cheeks and the deep blue of his irises stood out vividly amidst the pallid skin and the whites of his eyes.

"A Heartless was trying to get you," Axel said brusquely, dragging Roxas over to the entryway of the house—or what was left of it. All that remained of the doorway was an unhinged door with deep scratches that matched those on the table. The damaged wood of the door was warped and soaked through with water. The pair paused before exiting, and Axel poked his head outside and took a quick glance at the surroundings before nodding to himself and telling Roxas to follow him as quietly as possible. Roxas nodded dumbly, still too thrown by their sudden flight to respond.

The sound of the heels of their boots clicked loudly against the tatty cobblestone roads of the town, their shadows stretching from their feet, thin and faint and elongated, scurrying comically across the stones. Axel had released Roxas from his grasp, but had insisted the blond stick close to his heels. Roxas' lungs burned dully from exertion and his chest ached. His vision was starting to waver, again, randomly cutting out the colourful, glowing signs and tasteful shop displays from his view and tunnelling so all he could see was Axel's shock of spiky crimson hair flying in front of him. They skidded to a stop in front of two heavy wooden doors. In between the two and their escape stood—or, more accurately, _floated_—a violet, six-piece suit of armour. Each piece of the armour was empty and wavered independently of the others in the air. The armour's head bobbled in a twitchy way and one of its gauntlets twirled itself. Its cauldron spun around once, and Roxas could see it was encrusted with a black and red heart insignia. Axel's face paled at the sight of the armour. "Shit," he breathed.

The armour, as if it heard his voice, tilted its helmet curiously, as if to try and hear him again. One of its black and violet feet shifted, taking a sluggish, clumsy step forward.

Axel took a cautious step back, extending an arm and catching Roxas by the bicep. "Roxas," he said, voice low and calculated, "Around the corner on the right is a flight of stairs—" The armour took another step forward; Roxas and Axel took another step backwards "—When I attack, I want you to get to those stairs and get down them as fast as you can. There's a house on the lower level—it's next to the building with the stained glass windows. Go there. It's always safe," Axel instructed him. He removed his hand from the blond and extended his arms, flames curling around the black leather of his coat before twisting down to his hands, the coils solidifying into his spiked, red and silver weapons.

"But—"

"_NOW_!" Axel roared, springing forward and lashing out with his weapons. He sent one flying past the armour, just grazing the emblem on its cauldron. The armour, as if sensing it was under attack, reared back in indignation, spasming and writhing, its metal body clanking furiously as it prepared for attack. Axel's weapon whirled a loop around the armour before flying back into his hand with a loud _slap!_ The man tore his eyes from the enemy to shout at Roxas, "What are you waiting for?! _Go_!!" One of the gauntlets surged forward, its fingers clenched in a fist, aimed straight for Axel.

Roxas didn't stick around to see what would happen, he spun around sharply on his heel and sprinted for the stairs, squeezing his eyes shut and forcibly trying to ignore the sickening cracking sound he heard behind him. He made a sharp turn around the corner and ran for the stairs down to the lower level of the town, dodging the squirming black Heartless that burst from the shadows and their slightly larger, armoured comrades that clanked by. Just when he was halfway down the steps, something collided sharply with his side and sent him sailing through the air and landing in a fountain. Roxas lay there for a second, dazed, letting the cold water trickle down his face and the golden lights to bounce around his eyes. When he jerked back to reality and his vision cleared, he abruptly clambered to his feet and stood in the calf-deep water of the fountain and gaped at the monster that swooped through the air in front of him.

_D-dragon?!_

A deep red, winged creature with the same heart symbol on its chest soared ominously over the lower level of the district, as it flew over Roxas, it let out an ethereal screech, revealing a mouth full of small, needle-sharp teeth. The dragon circled the clock tower that stood on the opposite side of the district, hovered over it for a brief second, then, in a split second, shot toward Roxas and the water fountain, its glowing yellow eyes flashing with hunger and its talons extended and ready. Fear gripped Roxas as he saw the creature come bolting for him and he quickly began sloshing for the edge of the fountain, tripping over his feet in his panic. He tumbled over the edge of the fountain onto the street just as the dragon came rocketing at him, leaving it to crash painfully into the wall and fall into the water. Roxas staggered to his feet and shakily made to cross the plaza of the district, only to skid to a stop when more Heartless came crawling from the shadows, slinking hungrily toward him, their eyes gleaming and leaving the boy completely surrounded: the dragon behind him and these shadows in front.

In a strange and unprecedented burst of instinct, Roxas blindly turned and made a mad dash to his left, nearly crashing into two wooden doors. He grabbed the heavy iron door handles, adrenalin pumping in his ears, and threw the doors open, tearing inside and letting the doors slam shut on the wriggling Heartless. The Heartless that weren't immediately killed by the impact continued to approach the blond, eying him eagerly. Roxas stared down at the ugly, malformed bodies before him and a dark expression spread across his face. He clenched his hands into shaking fists and stalked forward to face his enemies, resolution in his frown. When the Heartless reared up from the shadows to receive him, he raised his fists and mercilessly beat them to death.

When, at last, all the Heartless lay dead evaporated into black sludge and mist, crystalline red and pink hearts exploded from the carnage and fled the scene in flashes of silver sparkles and stars, flying to the sky. Roxas watched the hearts dance away, free. He slumped on the ground and leaned heavily against the wall of a building, his breath hard and laboured and uneven. His tired fists were bloodied around the knuckles and his waterlogged leather coat did little to ease his comfort. Roxas wearily checked his coat pockets, hoping to find something useful—_Maybe I have some of those 'elixir' things Demyx was talking about_… After a thorough search, all Roxas found was a pair of soft leather gloves.

_Where is Demyx, anyway?_ Roxas wondered, furrowing his eyebrow at the thought. He distractedly picked at the drying blood on his hands as he peered around uneasily at his surroundings. _Forget Demyx—where am _I_?_

He seemed to be in a back alley, between the buildings of the district plaza and what appeared to be a very high, brick wall. On one side, there was a water gutter that led to some sort of drainage system that was barred off with a gate. The other side was blocked by a tall stack of crates. Roxas gazed at the crates with little enthusiasm. They looked pretty heavy.

Slowly rising to his feet, Roxas walked over to glance around the other corner of the alley. He frowned. There was another set of heavy doors, not unlike the ones he'd come through. He decided not to try passing through them. Something in his gut said it'd be a bad move. That in mind, he backed away from the door and blindly fell backwards into the gutter. He splashed erratically as he burst through the surface, spitting water and rubbing at his eyes. Roxas coughed a few times and waded over to the edge, tiredly heaving himself out of the water. As he sat wearily on the cement ground, he idly peered up and felt his stomach jolt with alarm. Hovering above his head were a good dozen Heartless with symbol emblazed green, red, blue, and yellow conical bodies with bright eyes peering out from beneath tall, pointed hats. The Heartless flew about the blond, as if contemplating exactly what the correct course of action was. Then, as if on a whim, a Heartless with a yellow body jerked unexpectedly and a crackling ball of golden lightening formed above its head. Roxas' eyes widened and he threw himself out of the way just as the lightning struck the place he'd sat in just seconds before. And just like that, all the other Heartless began to attack, orbs of ice, lightning, and fire materialising above the curls of their amber hats.

_There are way too many of them_, Roxas realised with a sinking feeling in his stomach as clambered to his feet, arms falling lifelessly at his sides as he looked up at his impending doom. _There's no way I can dodge them all. I'm screwed_.

"Dance, water, dance!"

A torrential cyclone of water suddenly burst out of nowhere and rocketed through the Heartless, sucking them in and obliterating them immediately, sending glittering pink hearts flying into the black sky. Then, just as unexpectedly as it appeared, it disintegrated, falling to the ground in an unceremonious _splash!_ and sloshed into the gutters.

Roxas watched, mouth hanging agape. He twisted in the direction the water had come attacking from and gawked at the sight of Demyx crouching precariously at the top of the stacked crates, dripping wet as usual, and clutching a large blue stringed instrument to his chest for dear life. Demyx's bottle-green eyes looked abnormally large on his face, his lips were pulled down into a frightened grimace and his skin was ashen and had a smear of grime travelling from his left temple across his forehead, making some of his unruly hair stick to his skin. "Roxas!" he called down. "Are you all right?!"

For a moment, Roxas was too stunned to answer. Then he replied, "Sort of."

Demyx rose to his feet and jumped down from his perch into a puddle, somehow landing smoothly without kicking up any latent water. He quickly approached Roxas. His instrument melted from his fingers as he walked, dripping to the cement and cobblestones as water and completely vanishing from his hands. When he was a good foot away from the blue-eyed boy, Demyx set to circling Roxas like a hawk, searching meticulously for any signs of external injury. Finding none, save for a few odd scratches, Demyx laid a long fingered hand on Roxas' shoulder and let out a dramatic sigh. "It's been absolute _hell_," he told Roxas. "Thank goodness you're all right. There have been Heartless crawling _everywhere_…" Demyx rolled his eyes in an exasperated way that didn't fit the seriousness of the actual situation. "I can't even begin telling you how difficult it's been trying to find you and Axel—three districts leave a _lot_ of room for possibility, you know. Not very helpful, really—Where is Axel, anyway?"

"We got separated," Roxas said, averting his eyes. "We were at this door, but we got attacked by this armour thing, and—"

"Wait," Demyx interrupted, eyes growing larger than they already were. "A Guard Armour attacked you guys at a _door_?" Demyx's face twisted into an unreadable expression. "Guard Armours never do that. Especially not by doors. They're rather sentient by nature. They generally stick to the plazas of the Second and Third Districts. Never the doors…" He looked troubled by this information.

"Yeah, well," Roxas muttered, furrowing his brow. "He told me to go ahead down the stairs through the plaza, but I got attacked by a dragon—"

"A wyvern," Demyx corrected, his eyebrows furrowing.

"—and I ended up here," Roxas finished lamely. Demyx looked upset.

"A wyvern?! Since when do wyverns come down from the rooftops?" he demanded, throwing his arms in the air and hitting Roxas with a few idle drops of water from the sleeves of his coat. He pointed a finger at the blond and said, "I'm telling you, something's going on. I was in the First District, right? I saw Heartless there!" He exclaimed, then paused, as if mulling over something and winced. "Well, okay, they were just small fry—Shadows and Soldiers—but still! The First District is supposed to be Heartless-free! And I ran into a Defender in the Second District! That never happens! Something is seriously _wrong_ with this picture."

As if to accentuate the accurateness of this assertion, a short purple creature with a reedy body and a pointed violet wizard's cap appeared in front of them with a pop. Roxas stared at it blankly. "What is it?" he asked stupidly.

Not even bothering to take a closer look at the new Heartless, Demyx snatched Roxas' wrist and promptly dragged him around the corner. No sooner had the two turned the corner than a giant fireball shot past them and scorched a nearby wall. Roxas let out a yelp of shock. "What the hell was that?!" he shrieked.

"A Wizard," Demyx told him shortly, using his free hand to summon his watery weapon. Another fireball was fired at them and Demyx released his grip on Roxas to spin around and pluck a string on his instrument. A ghostly pillar of water rose from the ground and swallowed the Wizard's fireball before evaporating in a cloud of vapour. Demyx turned back to Roxas and urged him to pick up the pace.

"If it's attacking with fire," Roxas said as he narrowly avoided another fireball, "why don't you just stand here and fight it? I mean, obviously you specialise with water, and—"

A bolt of electricity flew past them and hit an innocent barrel, incinerating it in a second. Roxas nearly tripped over his feet at the sight. Demyx pushed him forward.

"Not a chance," he told Roxas testily as they fled. "That thing knows all elemental magic at the drop of a hat, and there's no possible way I can fight lightning and come out unscathed." He started studying the townhouses they were passing. "I don't like fighting, especially when it's a losing battle." He slid to a stop in front of a house and jimmied the doorknob, threw the door open and pushed Roxas inside before following. No sooner had the door clicked locked shut than a bolt of electricity struck the cobblestones they had stood on moments before.

Once inside, Demyx sank to the floor, back resting heavily against the door. "Phew," he sighed in relief. "Thank goodness that's over…"

Roxas frowned at his companion then turned to observe his surroundings, balking when he saw they weren't alone in the house. About twenty Dalmatian puppies were sprawled across the room, all forty of their eyes curiously watching Roxas and Demyx. "Um, Demyx," Roxas stammered, "Are you sure we'll be okay in here…?"

Demyx chuckled and ran a hand through his dirty-blond Mohawk. "Yeah, don't worry about it. Pongo and Perdita's place is protected by some wizard or the other, so it's always safe."

"I thought Wizards were bad…"

"No," Demyx laughed, "not a Wizard. A _wizard_—a person that uses magic to make a living. I heard there was a really powerful one living somewhere under Traverse Town…" He paused to peer down at his feet; a puppy with a spot over its left eye was chewing on his ankle.

A small smile pulled at Roxas' lips. "Demyx, I think that guy wants something from you."

Demyx frowned for a moment, and then chuckled, snapping his fingers with a cheery grin. "I forgot," he chortled, "I brought something for them!" A twist of bluish-black smoke formed near the ground, and when it dissipated, a gold-encrusted chest stood proudly in its place. "Here ya go!" Demyx nudged the chest with the toe of his boot, and, almost immediately, the lid swung open, revealing three yipping Dalmatian puppies. The puppies eagerly bounded out of the box and dove into a pile of their siblings, sniffing and barking excitedly. Demyx smiled brightly, his eyes crinkling shut in glee. "Welcome back," he said fondly.

Roxas watched the puppies' reunion, his smile slowly dwindling.

* * *

"_I'm gonna go look for my friends. They're waiting for me."_

* * *

**The Bookmaster arrived shortly** after Roxas and Demyx, startling Roxas with its sudden appearance from thin air. The Bookmaster seemed edgier than usual, its flight pattern moving uncertainly in the air, rather than the lofty hovering it had favoured back in the flat in the Second District. Roxas assumed this was a bad sign. And, judging by Demyx's face as he conversed—a one-sided conversation, really—with the Heartless, it certainly was a bad omen. The Bookmaster's spastic twitching and anxious made its book rock anxiously, pages fluttering noisily. It slowly made its way to the parlour's couch and, essentially, collapsed.

"What was that about?" Roxas quietly asked the other man. He didn't want to seem like a nuisance; the Bookmaster looked stressed, if that was possible. "What'd it say?"

Demyx looked uneasily at Roxas and said, "He went searching for the Boss of the Traverse Town—that's where we are, by the way—Heartless."

"'Boss'?"

Demyx nodded. "Heartless are pretty unorganised creatures by nature, and they really don't get on well with each other—or with anything else—unless their united under something. Usually a more powerful Heartless. Or a person with a significant amount of darkness in his or her heart." He paused, as if considering something. "Or a Nobody." Demyx shrugged and continued, "So, he went looking for the Boss in the Third District, but he's had little luck." The Bookmaster made an odd hissing sound from its seat on the sofa, like an aggravated kitten. "In fact, he got jumped by a Large Body…those guys pack one helluva punch, too…"

Roxas frowned, his gaze flickering over to the exhausted Bookmaster. Its golden eyes seemed to be lacking the intelligent glimmer they'd held before. Now, the creature just looked weary. _If he gets attacked enough_, Roxas wondered slowly, grimly, _will he disappear and evaporate like all the others_? He lowered his wide eyes to his own hands, crusty with reddish-brown blood and pink with scratches. _If I get attacked enough, will I vanish_?

"Apparently there is only one Boss—he found out from a passing pack of Shadows—and the Boss is situated somewhere underground," Demyx continued, benignly oblivious to Roxas' state of morbid awe. "And the number of lower Heartless has been on the rise, so it sounds like this Boss is…well…" Demyx looked uncomfortable with what he was about to say. "_Hungry_."

"'Hungry'?" Roxas echoed, his voice far away and hollow. "Hungry for what?"

Demyx smiled thinly, the expression not reaching his darkened green eyes. "Hearts, of course. They feed on the hearts of others in order to live." His eyes slid shut and he shook his head. "They're always hungry…"

In the back of the parlour, the Bookmaster shifted in its seat and averted its golden gaze to the thick carpet, as if ashamed. Roxas stared. "If they just want hearts," he murmured, "why are they chasing us?"

The answer was a sympathetic smile. "They're curious," Demyx replied ambiguously, with a weak laugh. The laugh was humourless and drenched in darkness.

Frustrated with the lack of a substantial answer, Roxas opened his mouth to further breach the subject, only to say nothing when a peculiar chill shot up his spine. There was the sound of air being torn apart from behind him, and Demyx glanced over the teenager's shoulder and said, relief evident in his voice and eyes, "About time you showed up, Axel." Roxas mechanically spun around.

Axel stepped forward from the billowing void, looking haggard and covered in dirt and grime. "It's unbelievable," he groused, neglecting to greet his comrades. "There are Heartless _everywhere_! I have never seen it this bad." He shook his head, irritated. "I was attacked a good dozen times—I had to double back through the Third District to keep them from following me here. And that was _hell_. I can't even begin to tell you just how many Heartless are in the Third District as we speak! I swear, with numbers like this, at least _half_ of Traverse Town's been killed in the past few hours."

Demyx paled. "It's that bad?" he whispered. His voice was tight and his clenched fists visibly shook at his sides.

The redhead nodded darkly. "This Boss is completely insane." He jerked his head at the Bookmaster. "Did that guy find anything useful?" he demanded.

"The Boss is a Heartless, not a person," Demyx reported. "And its somewhere underground. Probably in the sewage system."

"A Heartless?" Axel scowled. "A damn smart one, clearly."

"Unfortunately," Demyx said shortly. "It also seems to have unified the other Heartless of the World under its intentions, because there were still people moving around unharmed in the First District. The Boss must've gathered its forces while we were still in the flat."

Axel rubbed distractedly at his chin, smearing the dirt on his face. "It's unusual to see such organisation among Heartless," he observed. "Normally, this sort of guidance comes from people or Nobodies." He narrowed his eyes. "Is the Bookmaster _positive_ this is a Heartless?"

"Yes," Demyx said curtly, his gaze unwavering and his chin held high. "Heartless have a sense that alerts them to each others' presences, and according to him," he inclined his head toward the Bookmaster, "there is _something_ immensely powerful hiding underground."

"Does it know what the Boss' objectives are?" Roxas suddenly piped up. The two older men stared down at him, Axel with a vaguely nostalgic expression, Demyx with something unreadable.

Demyx licked his lips and widened his eyes slightly. "They're looking for something," he said warily. Roxas frowned at the evasion.

Axel's mouth thinned into a forbidding line. "'Something'?"

Bottle-green eyes widened a fraction more as they stared unblinkingly into wild emerald. "_Something_," Demyx repeated. Then, for the briefest of seconds, Demyx's eyes darted at Roxas.

And the colour drained from Axel's face.

* * *

_All hearts to be one, one heart to encompass all._

* * *

**The Afterword:** Please don't kill me. This is mad overdue. I'm sorry!! _::hides::_

Tell me what you liked!! :D


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